Ties that Bind
by JoAnnB
Summary: Post Amnesty story. Heyes and Kid face a tragedy that could drive them back to Devil's Hole. Fourth story in the Wilde Hearts series.
1. Chapter 1

**Ties that Bind**

by Joann Baker

Jed Curry sat in the sheriff's office with a grim expression on his face. He had known he was in trouble as soon as he saw the look on the lawman's face. Now he sat boxed in with only one way out. Without showing any indication as to what he intended to do, he slowly lowered his right hand.

"I fold," he said, as he laid his cards flat on the table.

Sheriff Jack Caldwell let out a loud hoot, as he leaned over to rake in the pot--eight dollars and fifty cents. Neither man was a high stakes gambler, but both were highly competitive and had found a good sparring partner in the other. That each man would have thought the other the least likely of companions only a year before was also true.

Back then, Jack Caldwell had made no secret of the fact that he did not approve of two notorious outlaws being granted amnesty, nor did he make it a secret that he did not welcome them as residents in his town.

Jed Curry, for his part, had shown no interest in changing the other man's mind. He had been in a melancholy mood after suffering an injury to his leg that had left him with a profound limp and in almost constant pain.

All of that had changed a year ago when the two had become reluctant partners in catching a horse thief who had tried to frame Curry and seduce his young daughter. In the end, Caldwell had been the one to shoot the thief and save Curry's life. Although almost ten years his junior, Jack Caldwell had gained Curry's respect and trust for his handling of the matter, and Caldwell had developed a deep admiration and respect for the man Jed Curry had proven himself to be. Since then, the unlikely friendship had developed.

"When do Mr. and Mrs. Heyes get back?" Caldwell asked, casually, as he dealt the next hand.

"Next week," Curry replied, picking up his cards. "I sure will be glad when they get back. They deserved some time to themselves though."

"How have you and Clay been managing out there by yourselves?"

"We've been taking care of the place just fine. I hardly give my leg a second thought these days--good as new."

Caldwell smiled and nodded, though he knew that was not quite true.

"So you gonna be doin' the saddle breaking yourself this year then?" Caldwell asked, with raised eyebrows.

That very question had been the subject of a heated debate between Curry and his partner just before Heyes had left.

"Why not?" Curry challenged.

"Oh, I don't know, just thought that since your place is doing so well now, you could afford to hire someone else to do that."

"Clay and I can manage. Plus, now that school's out Heyes and Charlotte will be spending most of their time out at the ranch. And you know that Catherine will be arriving on Friday. Having a young man around while Catherine was here didn't exactly work out very well last year. I don't plan to make that mistake again," Curry grimaced at the memory.

"Well, not all young men are scoundrels like that Jeremiah Wilde turned out to be. And uh, maybe Catherine will have other men to think about besides ranch hands."

Curry's eyes narrowed, as he stared at the man across the table. "Just what is that supposed to mean?" he asked.

"Well, I've been meaning to tell you, but, Catherine and I have been corresponding some."

"Corresponding?"

"Well, yeah, I wrote her a letter about a month after she left. You know, just to let her know everything here was back to normal. Then she wrote me back and…well…we've been corresponding."

"She never mentioned that in any of the letters she wrote to me!" Curry exclaimed.

"Oh, well…we thought we wouldn't bother you with that unless…well unless things got serious."

"Are you telling me that things are serious between you and my daughter? She's only seventeen!"

"Well, Jed, a lot of women get married at seventeen—even at sixteen."

Curry stood and stared down at the younger man. "Married? Now you're talking about you and her getting married?"

"Well," the sheriff drawled. "I didn't exactly say that. Just…well, it's a possibility."

Curry inhaled deeply, fixing his eyes on Caldwell. "I'm gonna need some time to let this sink in," he said quietly. "I'd best be getting on back out to the ranch. I'll think on what you've just told me. See you next week, Jack."

"See ya, Jed." Caldwell looked down nervously, wondering if he should have waited until Catherine arrived to tell Curry about his feelings.

Seeing the younger man's discomfort, Curry hid a smile. He'd let Jack worry a while…but if Catherine was going to get married, there was no one he'd be happier to see her with.

Before Curry made it to the door, he was surprised by the sudden arrival of Ed Mathers, the new deputy sheriff. The man rushed straight to Caldwell and handed him a small piece of paper. 'Urgent telegram,' Curry observed, waiting near the door to see what the trouble was.

Caldwell frowned and reread the telegram before looking up. "Train robbery," he said finally and sat down. Curry waited a minute for him to say more, but the sheriff remained silent.

"That's it? A train robbery? That's not exactly unheard of in these parts," Curry commented, wondering why Caldwell had gone Pierce as a sheet when he read the telegram.

The lawman flashed the reformed outlaw a dark look. "It's the way this gang does it."

"What do you mean?"

"They don't blow safes or steal payrolls. They rob the passengers—they seem to know when a few particularly wealthy passengers are on board."

"Okay, so who are these guys?" Curry asked, still not sure what made this so unusual.

"Nobody knows," Caldwell said, dryly.

"Well, what do the passengers have to say?"

"Nothing."

"Well, they must have something to say."

"They don't say anything because the gang shoots everyone in the cars they rob, anybody who sees them," Caldwell's eyes met Curry's.

"My God," Curry breathed, softly. "How many?"

"This train? Fourteen." They've hit a few others further south in Colorado and Utah. This one was hit about twenty miles from here on the Utah boarder."

"You mean they're going around stopping trains and massacring the passengers and nobody has any idea who they are?"

"That's about it."

"Why haven't I heard about this?" Curry demanded.

"The railroads have been trying to keep it quiet. They don't want to create a panic."

"You mean they don't want people to stop buying train tickets," Curry observed, wryly.

"Look, I know you don't think much of the railroads, but they're doing their best."

"How much reward are they offering?"

"Nothing yet. Besides, they don't have any descriptions to put on posters."

"Hmph, I wonder how motivated they really are. It's not their money these guys are taking."

"That's not fair, Jed."

"No? Back when we were robbing trains, the railroads put out a reward of ten thousand dollars on Heyes and me, dead or alive, and we never killed anyone on any of their trains. We just took _their_ money."

"Well, you have to admit, you took quite a lot of their money."

"I can't believe you're comparing what we did to a massacre like this train job!"

"Whoa, slow down, Jed. There's no comparison here. These crimes are brutal; brutal and senseless. They didn't even spare the women and children. I don't understand how anyone can do a thing like that."

"Well, some men just have that in 'em," Curry said, as a distant and haunted look came over his face. "I gotta go."

"Jed, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring up…" Caldwell started to go after him, but the other man didn't look back as he continued walking out of the office. "Damn," he muttered, going back to his desk, remembering the story he'd been told of how Curry lost his family.

000000000

The small ranch house stood quiet in the early morning light. A pile of wood lay neatly stacked on one side, and the nearby corral was in good repair. Jed Curry sat on the porch and looked out over the landscape that he and Heyes had turned into a damn fine horse ranch. It had taken them some time; a few years to establish their stock, and equally long to gain the trust and respect of the other ranchers. It turned out that Heyes had an instinct for breeding lines and they were beginning to get a reputation for the quality of their stock.

Curry's attention abruptly turned to the main entrance to the property; the sound of horses approaching brought a concerned frown to his face. Heyes wasn't due home until the next day and he wasn't expecting any regular visitors. The former outlaw stood and faced the riders as they got closer. Even before they reined their horses to a stop in front of the porch, he knew what they were—lawmen. He didn't know their names or who they worked for, but he could guess their profession from a mile away.

"Good morning. We're looking for Mr. Curry." The man in the center spoke with the authoritative air of a man who was used to being in charge.

"What's your business?" Curry asked, his body tensing involuntarily as he noticed a silver star on the man's chest.

"You Curry?" He didn't wait for an answer. "We want to talk to you about a train robbery that occurred a few days ago," the man replied.

Curry snorted a disdainful laugh. "A train gets robbed in the territory of Wyoming and you ride all the way out here to my ranch to ask me about it? I'm not in that business anymore, in case you haven't heard."

"Oh, we heard about you and Heyes receiving your amnesty alright, and we heard about you two laying low here for the last few years."

Curry clenched and unclenched his fists and let out a slow breath before speaking.

"I don't like your attitude, Marshal," Curry said, looking into the man's face. "I'm a law abiding citizen now and you're on my property; so you'd better explain what right you have to come here accusing me of something."

"We're not accusing you of anything, Mr. Curry," one of the other men spoke up, his soothing tone an obvious attempt to calm the suddenly tense situation. "We'd just like to ask you a few questions. We'd like your help."

"My help?" Curry asked, incredulously. "I'm not in _that_ business either. I'm a rancher. I raise horses. If you want to buy some good reliable mounts, then I might be able to help you."

Curry studied the marshal's two companions. Both were dressed in suits and weren't wearing badges. Detectives of some sort, he surmised.

"I don't think you understand, and maybe we got off on the wrong foot here," the third man suggested, with a quick glance at the marshal next to him. "Would you mind if we came inside and talked?"

Curry nodded slowly. "Suit yourself. You can tie your horses up over by the corral. I'll make some fresh coffee." He retreated into the ranch house, leaving the men to tend to their horses.

"Well, what is this all about?" Curry asked, after the three visitors were finally seated inside.

A dark haired man in a gray suit spoke first. "Let me introduce myself. My name is William Jennings, chief detective for Midwest Railroad. This is my associate, Tom Blackburn." Jennings looked young, maybe mid twenties, but he had a confident air of a man who was used to giving orders. Blackburn was slightly older, a shorter stockier man with reddish hair and a ruddy complexion.

"Didn't know Midwest had its own detectives," Curry observed, glaring at the men seated in his living room. _After all this time, how can these guys still make me so uncomfortable?_

"The Bannerman Agency didn't seem to be able to get the job done," Blackburn replied, his eyes never leaving Curry's face.

"And what about you? Have you got any leads to this gang that's been robbing your trains and killing the passengers?

"As a matter of fact we do. We know where they're hiding out," Jennings interjected.

"Well, then do your job. Go arrest them," Curry said, curtly, with a glance at the marshal who had remained silent during the exchange.

"That's what we're trying to do, Mr. Curry. That's why we're here," the marshal said, coldly.

Curry stared in disbelief at the three men. "I thought we already covered this. You can't possibly think…"

"No, Mr. Curry, we don't think you robbed the train, but we think you can help us capture the men who did," Blackburn said quietly.

"We have reason to believe that this gang is using Devil's Hole as their hideout," the marshal supplied the last bit of information with an accusing glare.

"We'd like you to lead a posse into Devil's Hole," Jennings added.

Curry's eyes widened, unable to hide his shock. "You gotta be kidding," he laughed. "Now I know I can't help you, even if I wanted to. There's no way a group of riders can get close to that place without being seen. They'd pick us off one by one and we'd never see a soul. There's no way," Curry declared.

"We think some of your old gang may be riding with this bunch, or at least know who they are," Jennings continued.

"Not likely," Curry argued. "No one who rode with me and Heyes would be a part of a thing like this. Besides, almost all of the boys are either dead or in prison by now." The last part wasn't quite true, but these detectives didn't need to know that.

"Well, somebody showed them how to get in there, now didn't they?" Blackburn raised his eyebrows and waited for Curry's response.

"There are plenty of people over the years who knew how to get into Devil's Hole; men that only rode on one or two jobs, or hid out there for a time."

"You can get us in, Mr. Curry. Whoever's in there probably knows you and you could convince them to let us in," Jennings said, hopefully.

"I said no. It won't work. That gang isn't going to let anybody in there. It would be suicide for anyone to try. I think this conversation is over." Curry rose to escort his guests to the door.

The men stood, reluctantly. "We'll be in touch. Come on, Bill," Blackburn said, gesturing to the other man.

"Don't count on it," Curry replied, as he ushered the three men to the door.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

"Do you know what they asked me to do?" Curry demanded, leaning closer to Sheriff Caldwell. "Do you know why they came to see me?

The two men were standing in Caldwell's office and the sheriff instinctively took a step backward, as he slowly shook his head. "No, Jed. All they told me was that they thought you could help with the investigation. I figured you'd want to."

Curry's anger seemed to slip away as he sighed and sank down into the chair next to the sheriff's desk. "Yeah, well…they didn't know what they were asking," he muttered quietly, more to himself than anyone else.

"What did they ask?" Caldwell pressed, sitting down at his desk opposite the former outlaw.

"You don't know?"

"No, I just told you. They only said that you might be able to help them catch the thieves."

"They asked me to lead a posse into Devil's Hole, like they were asking me to lead a parade down Main Street or something."

"Devil's Hole?" Caldwell's jaw dropped. "The gang is at Devil's Hole?"

"That's what they seem to think," Curry sighed.

"Well…can you? I mean—tell them how to get there at least?"

Curry returned the man's question with a discouraging look. "Why do you think the law has never raided Devil's Hole? It would suicide to try and ride in there with a posse. The lookouts can see riders approaching for miles. There are plenty of places to sit and wait until you have a good shot—then just pick 'em off one by one, like ducks in a shooting gallery."

"Then I don't understand what they thought you could do about it." Caldwell looked genuinely confused.

"Don't you get it? They figure they'd let me in 'cause I'm still one of 'em. Once an outlaw, always an outlaw, and maybe some of my old gang is even riding with this new bunch."

Understanding finally dawned in the sheriff's eyes. He'd had similar thoughts about the two pardoned outlaws when they first settled down in his town, but had changed his mind after getting to know them. "Oh…" he commented, quietly.

"Even if I wanted to help, there's no way they'd let me ride in there uninvited. They probably wouldn't even recognize me, and I know that none of the old bunch would be a part of something like this. And even if they did recognize me, at least one of them would have to have heard we'd gone straight and be suspicious from the get-go. It would be too risky."

"Isn't there any way the law can get in? Some back way?" Caldwell wondered aloud.

"No," Curry shook his head firmly. "That was why it was so perfect. Only one way in." He smiled a little remembering how many times that had saved them.

"What do you think Heyes will have to say about this?" Caldwell asked.

"Heyes? He's spent the last ten years trying to earn a good reputation, he's not going to be very happy about this new bunch digging up the name of the Devil's Hole gang—and connecting it with murder—the one thing we always managed to avoid."

"What this gang is doing won't reflect on you two."

"You sure about that?" Curry sounded unconvinced. "People have long memories when it comes to stuff like this."

"I suppose you might be right. But not with the people who know you. Catherine…"

"Catherine," Curry looked up suddenly, realizing he hadn't even considered her until now. "She's due to arrive in three days. She and her family are stopping over in Laramie for a few days. Are the detectives still in town?"

"They're staying at the hotel. Seems they want to talk to Heyes before they leave."

"Hmph, well with any luck maybe they'll leave before Catherine and the Wainwrights get here."

"Yeah, the Wainwrights," Caldwell repeated, hesitantly.

Curry eyed the sheriff. "What's the matter?"

"Nothin'. It's just that…I'm a little nervous about meeting Catherine's mother," Caldwell admitted, uneasily.

Curry grinned. "Eliza? Oh, you'll like her. She's…she's real easy to talk to. Joseph too, real nice guy. I think they were surprised when Catherine said she might want to move here. I guess they figured they should come and check it out. Maybe check you out too?" His grin broadened as he watched Caldwell squirm a bit in his seat.

"Oh, now Jed, you know I'm strictly on the up and up," Caldwell said, nervously.

"Yeah, I know," Curry said reassuringly. The other man let out the breath he'd been holding. "Like I said, I just need a little time to let it sink in," he added as he picked up his hat and headed out the door.

000000000

Jed Curry was sitting in the saloon having a beer and brooding over the conversation about the new gang when Jack Caldwell rushed through the swinging doors. The sheriff headed straight for him and Curry knew immediately that something was wrong.

"Jed," the man breathed, almost fearfully, "when are the Wainwrights due to arrive in Laramie?"

"Last night," the older man replied.

"What train were they on?"

"I'm not sure. They were coming from Denver, I think. Why?" he asked, frowning, concern edging into his voice.

"Another train was hit. The Denver Express to Laramie."

Curry felt the blood drain from his face. "When?"

Caldwell couldn't meet Curry's eyes when he answered. "Yesterday afternoon…a few miles out of town."

The beer curdled in Curry's stomach. "How many dead?"

"I don't know yet. The sheriff in Laramie just sent out the first report." Looking up, he finally met the other man's eyes and was afraid at the emotions he saw reflected in them. Hastily, he said, "It might not be the same train."

"But it might." Curry said, tightly. "I'm not sitting around here waiting to find out." Taking a final long pull on his beer, he wiped his mouth nervously and said, "Tell Heyes where I went."

"You can't ride all the way to Laramie," Caldwell exclaimed. "Wait until we know for sure. Or at least, wait for Heyes."

"Never been much good at waiting around. I'll take an extra horse," he was already heading for the door as he said it.

"Jed, if…anything has happened," the other man called out, "don't do anything you'll regret. Let the law handle this."

"If anything has happened," Curry replied, grimly, "the law won't be able to stop me."

His face was set with a hard determination that Caldwell had only seen once before; when they had found out that the young man Catherine had fallen for was a thief and a killer. Curry had shown restraint then, but everything had turned out okay and Catherine had been safe. Caldwell had begun to have his own feelings for Catherine, and right now he wasn't sure what he would do himself if any harm came to her.

Curry paused at the door, and then turned back around. "Don't tell anyone else that Catherine may have been on that train—even those Midwest detectives."

"Why not? They might be able to help," Caldwell said, surprised by the request.

"If I have to go after that gang, I don't want them to know I'm coming…or why."

"But, you can trust the railroad…" Caldwell began.

Curry's face registered disgust before he replied. "I trust you, Jack. Now trust me on this one."

Caldwell nodded slowly. "Alright, but you can't go after that gang alone."

"I can—if I have to," was all the former outlaw said before storming out of the saloon, leaving the doors swinging behind him.

Caldwell stared after him for a few minutes and then slumped down onto a barstool and closed his eyes. Please don't let Catherine be dead…he prayed.

000000000

Hannibal Heyes sat back in his seat with his arm draped casually over his wife's shoulder and looked out the train window at the scenery as it changed to the familiar Wyoming landscape that he was accustomed to.

"Happy to be home?" he asked as he gently squeezed her shoulder.

"Oh yes!" A teasing look came over her face. "Thank heavens all that honeymoon nonsense is over!"

"We-ell," drawled Heyes, "I put it off as long as I could..."

Heyes and Charlotte Grey had married last fall but had waited until spring, when school ended, to go away for their honeymoon.

"All that togetherness and constant love-making," Charlotte pulled a mock-wry face and gave an exaggerated shudder, "Ugh! I'll be glad to get back to work."

Heyes smiled, he knew how much teaching meant to his wife. He had to put his silver tongue to the test in order to help her keep the position. Ordinarily, a married woman did not qualify for the job, but Heyes had shown the members of the school board the error of their ways. Six balding town officials really hadn't been much of a match.

"Me too," teased back Heyes. "On the love making front," he mimicked her shudder, "glad we got that out of the way, now we can get on as an old married couple."

"Certainly not!" declared Charlotte, firmly. She continued in her schoolmarm tone, "I've told you before, Hannibal Heyes, you will repeat the exercise until you get it right!"

Heyes grinned.

"It was lovely in Connecticut, though," she said, a hint of wistfulness turning her voice dreamy.

"Yes, Hartford was beautiful. So many interesting people. And I still can't believe that we had dinner with Samuel Clemens." Heyes chuckled, "the Kid had that one pegged as an alias right from the start…Mark Twain…"

"It was amazing," his wife agreed.

"Meeting Samuel Clemens, that will certainly be something to tell our grandchildren," remarked Heyes. He saw a shadow pass over his wife's face. He knew she was disappointed that after nine months of marriage there was still no baby on the way. He also knew that she believed, at thirty six years of age, she might never conceive.

"It's just a figure of speech," he said, gently.

"No, it's not. You'd like to have children…you should," she said, sadly.

"Hey," he said, taking her hand, "If a baby comes along—wonderful, if not, then you can continue teaching. I know how much that means to you."

She hesitated, "Yes, but that doesn't give you a child."

"You're all I need to be happy. More than I ever expected, in my wildest dreams."

"More than you deserve, too!" Charlotte replied, once again flashing a bright smile.

"Much more!" he agreed. He brought her hand to his lips, dropped a kiss on the palm.

They sat in silence for a few moments, smiling into each others eyes.

"And of course, we have Catherine," Heyes added. He thought of the young girl who had become like a daughter to him. "She'll be in Pine Bluffs in a couple of days ..."

"You've really missed her, haven't you?" Charlotte observed.

"Well, sure," he grinned.

"I'm so glad Eliza and Joseph are coming to visit. I'm looking forward to meeting them," she commented, lightly.

"Yeah…they're nice people," he said without missing a beat, but Charlotte noticed the apprehension that passed briefly in front of his eyes.

"What is it?" she asked, knowing something about the visit was causing her husband concern.

"Well, it's just that--I think the Kid still has feelings for Eliza and…no matter how hard he tries to hide it, I know it's hard for him to be around her."

"Oh, I see. I thought it might be something like that," she nodded solemnly. "I wish things had worked out between Jed and Emma. She would have been good for him."

"Yeah, that would have been nice," he said, thoughtfully. "He didn't seem too upset when that banker from Cheyenne proposed and she accepted though. I don't know what he was waiting for. He finally had a chance to settle down with a wife and he let it pass by," Heyes shook his head absently.

"Well, I'm glad you made your move when you saw your opportunity," Charlotte gave her husband a flirtatious smile. Her earlier melancholy mood was quickly being replaced with a more playful one.

"Mrs. Heyes, behave yourself, we're in public," he answered with feigned embarrassment.

"How much longer until we're home?" she asked in a conspiratorial tone.

"'Bout a half hour before we reach the station," he answered quietly.

"Hmm. We could stop over at the house in town before riding out to the ranch," she suggested.

"Mrs. Heyes, I like the way you think." He leaned over to give his wife a kiss on the cheek, letting his lips lightly brush across her face before arriving at her ear which he began to nibble gently.

"If you keep that up, Mr. Heyes, you may just have to stop this train," Charlotte said, with a slight shudder.

"I can arrange that," Heyes promised; his voice low and husky.

"I bet you can," Charlotte giggled as she pulled away, giving her husband a teasing glare.

The remainder of the train ride passed uneventfully and the newlyweds were in good spirits when the train pulled into the station.

"I thought Jed said he was going to meet us here," Charlotte commented. She looked up and down the street, searching the crowd that was waiting to meet family and friends arriving on the train for the familiar face.

"He did. He's probably just having a drink or playing cards with Caldwell," Heyes said, with some irritation showing in his voice. "Probably lost track of time.

"Well, if he said he'd be here, then he will," Charlotte proclaimed confidently, knowing it would take a near tragedy to keep Jed Curry from keeping a promise to his partner.

"Hey, Jack!" Heyes called suddenly, seeing the town sheriff striding toward them. "The Kid was supposed to meet us. You don't have him locked up, do you?" The grin on his face faded slightly when he took in the look on the sheriff's face. "Jack, what's wrong?" he asked, cautiously. "Where's the Kid?"


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

The ride into Laramie took two days. It would have taken most riders another day, but taking a second horse had allowed him to travel faster and with fewer breaks. Curry knew riding into town smothered in trail dust, he must look a bedraggled drifter. At that moment however, his appearance was the least of his concerns. As soon as he entered the business district, he could tell that the town was in a state of shock. The usual sights of townsfolk shopping, children playing, and businessmen going about their routine had been replaced by clusters of men talking in hushed voices and others staring from behind window panes.

Laramie was a large town. Curry wondered briefly how long it would take him to learn the news that he had ridden through the night to obtain. His eyes scanned the painted signs along the storefronts and came to rest on one ominous placard—the undertaking parlor. Slower now, still in the saddle but walking his animal, he neared the building. A group of men gathered on the boardwalk in front of the building looked up as he approached. Realizing they were eyeing him suspiciously, he sat up straighter in the saddle and introduced himself.

"Good morning. My name's Jones. I'm looking for some information about the train robbery." He was surprised at the ease with which the old alias flowed off his tongue. He wasn't exactly sure when he'd made the decision to use it but somehow he knew the name 'Kid Curry' would not be very welcome in a town reeling from a recent train robbery; especially a robbery whose perpetrators were being linked to Devil's Hole.

"What kinda information?" a short balding man stepped out from the group to ask. "Are you from some newspaper? We don't want none of that."

"No, I'm not. I'm—I had family due in from Denver, the night of the robbery. I'm here to see if they arrived safely. They were only passing through; do you have any passengers from the train staying at one of your hotels?"

"Oh," the man said, hesitantly. "There was only one train from Denver that night and most of the passengers were returning home, here to Laramie. What are their names?"

"Wainwright," Kid said, hopefully. "A man and wife, traveling with two children; an older daughter and an infant."

"Most of the passengers that were just passing through left this morning on the stage. Don't recall seeing a baby though." The man scratched his head thoughtfully.

"You could try over at the hospital. I think there's a baby over there. Wasn't in the car that was attacked though," another man spoke up. "The young mother's so upset she won't even speak."

That didn't sound like Eliza. She could hardly be described as 'young' at her age, and with a grown daughter. Kid paused, giving the undertaking parlor a long look.

"They still got the bodies in there. They're not all identified yet," one of the other men in the group suggested in a hushed voice, following the visitor's gaze.

"Are they all in there?"

"Yep, all still there," the man replied, dully. "I can take your animals over to the livery if you want."

"Thanks," Kid nodded his gratitude for the man's kindness as he dismounted.

Stepping through the door, he felt a cold chill and the immediate presence of death. "Hello?" he called, his voice oddly subdued.

"Be right with you," a brusque voice sounded from a back room. A grim faced, middle-aged man stepped into the outer office. "What can I do for you?"

"I, um, had some relatives traveling on that train," Kid stammered, feeling the knot in his stomach tighten even more than it had when he'd entered the town.

"Oh," the undertaker said, solemnly, his countenance changing to one of professional sympathy. "Right this way. I'm afraid I'm just not set up to handle something like this and the pressure is starting to get to me," he said, as if to explain his less-then cordial greeting earlier. "We don't have a passenger list to work from, and since most of the dead were from out of town, we're having a hard time getting this straightened out," he continued fretfully as he led the way down a long hallway and into a room where several tables stood. White linens were draped over what were obviously the bodies of the passengers. Several tables held two bodies side by side.

Looking around the room, Kid resisted the urge to cry out and begin ripping the linens off of the bodies in a desperate search.

"I just don't have the capacity for something like this," the undertaker apologized again. "You said you are a relative?"

He hesitated and drew a slow breath. He really didn't want to go into the long story, so instead he opted for a vague lie. "Yes, cousin—my cousin and his family were on their way here from Denver. Joseph and Eliza Wainwright."

"Can you give me a description? That might be faster."

"Uh, Joseph is um, about forty, about five-ten, thinning hair…" Curry broke off as a lump formed in his throat. Recognition had shown in the undertaker's eyes as he moved to one of the tables and stood at one end. At Curry's nod, he slowly rolled the linen down to reveal the face.

Curry sucked in a breath as he ran a dirty hand through his hair. Wordlessly, he nodded. The face of Joseph Wainwright would have appeared almost peaceful—were it not for the bullet hole in his forehead.

"And Mrs. Wainwright?" the older man asked, gently.

"Long dark hair, green eyes, she's thirty-six. And, their daughter…she's…she's seventeen, long blonde hair…" He braced himself for what he was sure would be the most difficult ordeal he had ever faced. The thought of twenty years in prison hadn't scared him as much as the thought of seeing his daughter on one of these tables.

The undertaker moved to the next table and repeated the process of slowly rolling back the linen covering.

Curry stared as a face emerged. Long blonde hair and a youthful face; too young to have life taken away so violently.

He closed his eyes and breathed a silent prayer of thanks. Slowly he shook his head, "No."

The man nodded and moved to the next table. Again, he revealed a face, this time a woman that Curry was sure had been pretty and full of life before her final train ride.

"No," Curry said again, a strange mixture of sadness and profound relief coursing through his body.

The undertaker gave him a perplexed look. "Are you sure?" he asked quietly. "Sometimes, when a person is dead…"

"No, I know what they look like. Show me the rest."

"There is only one other woman, and she's a bit older than you've indicated."

"Show me," Curry said, firmly. "I have to be sure."

The final female victim appeared to be a woman in her late fifties, with long gray hair.

"That's it? You said all the other passengers were locals?" Curry stared at the other man with a look that demanded an answer.

"No, I said most of the dead were from out of town."

Curry's mind was reeling. "A man out there on the street said that the out of town passengers left this morning. Eliza wouldn't have gone and left her husband unidentified—hell, he wouldn't be 'unidentified' if she had been here at all!"

"Please, sir, try and calm down," the other man seemed oddly unaffected by the outburst.

"Calm down? My—family was on that train and I'm not going to calm down until I find them!"

"Why don't you try over at the hospital? There was another passenger in the car attacked by the gang. I'm not sure if she's still alive—they brought her here at first with the others, but there were some signs of life so I had her taken over to the hospital."

At the look on his visitor's face, the undertaker shook his head slowly. "Don't get your hopes up; I don't think she has any chance of surviving. In fact, if I had to speculate, I'd guess that she's already passed on."

"Which way is the hospital?"

"Big brick building two blocks over, on the corner. You'll see it."

Curry spun around and raced out of the room.

"Wait! What about arrangements for your cousin?" the undertaker called after him just before he heard the outer door slam shut. "Some people have no manners," he mumbled, as he returned to his office to write down the name of the recently identified passenger.

000000000

The young woman sitting at the desk near the front door of the hospital looked up, startled by Curry's abrupt entrance. Her eyes traveled from his hat to his boots, taking in his disheveled appearance and dirt that covered his clothes and face. She scowled before speaking.

"Sir, this is a hospital, not a stable. If you plan to visit one of our patients, you'd best clean up first."

"Ma'am, I'm sorry but I've been riding for two days and I don't know if my daughter is alive or dead."

The look on the traveler's face softened the heart of the young woman and she stood and walked around the desk to put her hand on the man's shoulder.

"What does your daughter look like?" she asked, gently.

"She's seventeen, pretty, light colored hair," he stammered. "I'm looking for her mother too."

"Sir, come this way, please." She led the way down a short hallway. "I'm not sure I have very good news for you, but if the woman that was brought here is your wife, well then at least you'll be able to stop wondering."

Her words confused him at first, but then he realized that of course she would have made the assumption that this woman would be his wife.

The young nurse opened a door to a stark looking room with a single bed. Another slightly older woman sat by the side of the bed, watching over the patient.

"Oh, no…God, no…" Curry stammered at the sight of Eliza lying still and pale looking against the white sheets. Her head was thickly bandaged with white cloth and she looked more like one of the corpses he had just seen at the undertaker's than the vibrant woman he remembered.

"I'm sorry, we don't think it will be much longer now." The older woman spoke softly and gave him a sympathetic look.

"You could be wrong. She's still alive. Isn't there hope as long as she's alive?" Curry asked, his voice sounding desperate.

"No, if you had seen the damage to—no, I'm sorry," the young woman shook her head slowly.

"Are there any others?" he asked after a few moments.

"There is a young woman who fits the description that you just gave of your daughter. But…she wasn't in the car that was robbed so we didn't connect her to your wife. In fact, she has a baby so we thought--"

_If Catherine had her baby brother with her she could have easily been mistaken for the infant's mother,__ it all made sense._ "Where is she?" he demanded, interrupting the woman's explanation. He began to feel lighter at the thought that Catherine had somehow avoided the slaughter in the railroad car.

"She's down the hall. We just didn't know what to do with her," the nurse gave him an apologetic look.

Curry stared at the young woman for a moment. "What do you mean?" he asked in confusion. "You said she wasn't in the car that was attacked."

"Please, come with me," she told him as she headed back up the hallway, stopping beside another closed door.

After the rush to reach Laramie, Curry found himself hesitant to open the door. Finally, the nurse stepped in front of him and opened it for him.

At first glance, Curry let out the breath he'd been holding, relieved to find Catherine alive and well. As he stepped into the room however, he realized that something was not right. His daughter sat in a chair in the corner of the room, but she hadn't even glanced at him when he entered.

"Catherine? Honey?" he called out, but she showed no signs of hearing him. He covered the distance in three long strides and knelt down beside her. "Catherine, can you hear me?" he asked again, this time grasping the girl's shoulder and giving her a gentle shake.

"What's wrong with her?" he asked, looking back toward the nurse who had remained in the doorway. "Is she hurt?"

"Not physically, no. You might want to speak to one of the doctors."

"If she's not hurt, why is she just sitting here like this? Can't she hear me?" he asked, looking at Catherine's eyes which stared unfocused across the room.

"When they first brought her here, your daughter was very protective of the baby. She wouldn't let anyone else come near. We knew he was getting hungry. She wouldn't feed him. She screamed and fought when we took him, but—we needed to do something. Since then—she has been as you see her now. She hasn't spoken, or acknowledged anyone's presence."

Curry stared at his daughter, his heart breaking for her and desperate to make sense of the events that had caused her condition.

"Are you sure she wasn't in the train car that was robbed?"

"No, we don't think so, but she may have witnessed some of the attacks. The other passengers found her hiding with the baby in the car adjacent to the one with the victims. You can speak with the doctor in the morning, but for now, maybe you should focus on your grandson?"

"My what? I don't have a—oh, you mean the baby, he's not my grandson."

The young nurse looked slightly confused. "Then, who does he belong to?"

"Eliza Wainwright."

The young nurse looked even more confused, "Then, he's your son?"

"No," Curry said, impatiently. "Catherine is my daughter, but her mother, the woman in the other room, is…was married to someone else. He was killed in the robbery."

"Oh, I see," she said, with a disapproving frown. From the look on her face, Curry was sure that she didn't see at all. "I was hoping we'd found someone to look after the boy. We really aren't able to continue to care for him here…"

"Can't you just look after him a little longer? Maybe tomorrow Catherine will snap out of this, or Eliza…"

"I'm sorry, Mr.?"

"Oh, uh, Jones," Curry answered, vaguely.

"Well, Mr. Jones, why don't you get a room over at the hotel, and I'll tell the doctors that you'll be in to see them tomorrow."

"I should stay with her. She's alone…" Curry said, giving his daughter a long look.

"We're looking after her and doing all we can. You should really get some rest so you don't take ill yourself." The young woman gave him sympathetic look.

"Alright, but please send someone to get me if there is any change, in either of them?"

"Of course, Mr. Jones."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Jed Curry awoke with a start, realizing he'd slept longer than he'd intended to. The sun was already up when he parted the window curtains and looked out onto the street. He dressed quickly and hurried downstairs. A quick scan of the ground floor restaurant revealed several groups of patrons sitting at the small tables. His desire to arrive at the hospital early to speak with the doctor drove all thoughts of breakfast from his mind.

Hurrying out of the hotel, Kid was surprised to see a stagecoach pull in across the street. He was even more surprised when the door swung open and Heyes and Charlotte stepped out.

Charlotte saw him immediately and rushed over, throwing her arms around him and holding him in a tight embrace. Heyes gave him a quick glance, before settling his fee with the driver.

"What are you two doing here?" Curry stammered, after Heyes had joined them "And how did you get here so soon? I didn't know stagecoaches traveled at night."

"They do if you pay them enough," Heyes said, matter-of-factly. "Jack filled us in on what happened, at least as much as he knew. Do you think there's any place else we'd be?"

Both Heyes and Charlotte were looking anxiously at Kid, waiting for him to tell them what he'd found out.

"Catherine's alive," he told them, "and so is Eliza, but—they don't expect her to make it."

"Oh, Jed, I'm so sorry," Charlotte said, softly, reaching out to lay her hand on his arm.

"Where is Catherine?" Heyes asked.

"She's over at the hospital."

"Is she hurt?" Charlotte asked, quickly.

"No, not really—I'm not sure. She hasn't spoken."

Heyes looked away briefly so his cousin wouldn't see the grief in his eyes. He remembered reactions like that from his childhood, when so many had been senselessly murdered during the war. "She saw it happen," he said, solemnly, more of a statement than question.

"They said she was hiding in a different car, but…she must have seen something, or…" Kid's voice trailed off.

"If she just found the bodies afterward, would that be enough to cause her condition?" Charlotte asked.

"Maybe," Heyes said, his voice unconvincing. "Everyone had better think that, or she could be in even more danger."

Kid looked up and the sudden realization showed on his face. "I hadn't even thought of that. If she was actually a witness…"

"Let's just take her home. The sooner we get her away from here the better," Heyes said, quietly.

"I can't leave now, not with Eliza still in the hospital. I have to get over there; the doctor is in this morning."

"We'll come with you," Charlotte said, without hesitation.

"No," Curry said, abruptly, leaving Charlotte momentarily speechless.

"But why?" She asked, confused.

Curry threw his partner a furtive glance.

"Look, sweetheart, let's go get a room at the hotel. Jed'll tell us how Catherine is when he gets back."

"No, I want to see Catherine and I can't think of one good reason why I shouldn't, so if you have something to say, you'd better tell me now," Charlotte said, decisively, standing her ground.

"I don't want to cause a big stir over there. I…I don't want the folks here to know who I am."

Understanding settled in Charlotte's eyes. "You're afraid they'll think you were one of the train robbers."

"I just didn't think the name 'Curry' would be very well received when everyone is thinking that this gang is hiding out in Devil's Hole," Kid said, his voice sounding tired and resigned. "I told them my name was Jones."

A look that Charlotte didn't quite understand passed between the two men, and then she remembered the aliases they had told her they'd used years ago.

"We need to keep our identities—and Catherine's—out of the newspapers."

"I already thought of that. I told Jack not to tell anyone in Pine Bluff that Catherine and her family might have been on the train," Heyes assured his partner.

"I'm going with you to the hospital," Charlotte said, firmly.

The partners exchanged a glance. Hadn't Charlotte been listening?

"Look, if you want the hospital staff to release Catherine to you, in her condition, it will look better if your dear 'wife' is along. Otherwise, the doctors might suspect you of being a member of the gang out to eliminate the only eye witness. I'll be Mrs. Jones." Charlotte walked to Curry's side and took his arm, leaving Heyes staring at her in surprise.

"Alright, you may have a point, we'll be back in a while," Kid said, after a moment.

"Okay," Heyes said, with a nod. "That does make sense. I guess I don't have a problem with you borrowing my wife for a while—as long as it's only temporary. I'll just poke around a little, see what I can find out. I'll meet you back at the hotel."

Kid headed out toward the hospital with Heyes' wife at his side.

When they entered the hospital, Charlotte was suddenly apprehensive about seeing Catherine. She clung to Jed's arm as they were ushered back to Catherine's room. It was dark.

"The doctor will see you in a few minutes," the young nurse informed them, as she went to the window to draw the curtains.

"Catherine? Honey, Charlotte's here," Kid stepped hesitantly to Catherine's side, allowing Charlotte to approach her.

"Everything's going to be fine, we're here dear. We'll take you home with us and you'll be fine." Charlotte placed her hand gently on the girl's shoulder. At the touch, Catherine flinched, but her eyes continued to stare across the room.

Curry looked up as the doctor entered the room. The man, who introduced himself as Dr. Carter, was a middle-aged man with dark hair, graying at the temples.

"I'm glad to see that this young lady has some family in the area, I was beginning to worry about who was going to look after her," the doctor said, kindly.

"Doctor, are you sure those men didn't hurt her, she seems…" Charlotte looked, worriedly, down at the silent girl.

"No, we've given her a complete examination. I can assure you that she was not physically injured."

"Then why doesn't she recognize us? Why won't she talk? What are you doing for her, just leaving her here alone in a dark room?" Curry was feeling helpless and anger was beginning to take over.

"Please, Mr. uh…Jones," the doctor said, after glancing at the name that had been written on the file he carried. "This is a medical hospital; there is nothing that we can do for her here. There are asylums that are better equipped to deal with your daughter's…condition. My nurse can give you a list—"

"Don't bother, I'm not sending her to any asylum. We're taking her out of here."

"Well, Mr. Jones, I can certainly understand your desire to care for your daughter yourself." He met Kid's eyes, "Perhaps, with familiar surroundings, she'll return to her right state. And now, I understand that you'd like to discuss her mother's condition as well?"

"That's right," Curry snapped.

Dr. Carter led the way to the next room, where Eliza lay under the watch of another young nurse. The Doctor's manner was professional, his voice void of emotion. "The bullet entered her head—here..." A deft finger indicated a point on the coldly white bandage, "We removed the bullet, but too much damage had already been done. The best we can hope for is a quick, rather than a prolonged death."

"Someone needs to take care of her. There will need to be…arrangements," Kid said, his eyes lingering on the woman lying across the room.

"We'll take care of her for as long as she remains in this state, and then…I'll contact you if you'd like. Are there any other relatives? Of hers, I mean?"

"Uh, her parents might still be alive, but I don't think she's spoken to them in a long time. I'm not sure how to contact them."

Dr. Carter frowned, disapprovingly. "Well, you might want to try," he said, as he got up to leave the room.

"Doctor," Kid began, "isn't there…any hope at all?"

"For Mrs. Wainwright? No, I'm sorry; her injury was just too severe." The doctor shook his head sympathetically. "Then, there is the matter of the baby," he mumbled, as he walked toward the door.

"What?" Kid questioned.

"Well, I was just wondering about the baby. If his sister was well, I would presume she'd take the baby with her, but that doesn't appear to be an option at the moment. If Mr. and Mrs. Wainwright have no relatives, then I thought—perhaps you?"

"We can't take the baby," Kid said, quickly.

"Why not?" Charlotte asked softly, "I'm sure Catherine will want her little brother with her as soon as she's better."

"Charlotte, a baby is a lot of work. And you'll have your hands full taking care of Catherine. I can't ask you to take all of that on."

"You're not asking, I'm offering. And besides, you'll be there too, won't you?"

"There's something I have to do," he replied, grimly.

He strode purposefully outside and headed for the hotel. Charlotte furrowed her brow and hurried after him.

Heyes was standing on the boardwalk, out in front of the hotel, when the two returned. He slipped his arm around his wife's shoulders and looked over at his partner. "How'd it go?"

"We're taking her home." A determined look settled onto Curry's face. "I've made up my mind. As soon as we're back in Pine Bluffs I'm going to find those railroad detectives and tell them I'll help them bring in this gang."

"No you won't."

"Heyes, you can't talk me out of it."

"I mean you won't have to wait until we're back home—they're right here in town. Those two railroad detectives, Jennings and Blackburn, they stopped me almost as soon as I left the hotel."

"They did? How did they know you?"

"I'm not sure, I suppose they could have a description—or even a photograph by now. But don't worry, they understand why it's important that no one know we have a connection to some of the victims."

"Do they still want us to take them to Devil's Hole?"

"Yeah that's about it."

"What'd you tell 'em?"

"I told them I had nothing to say until after I'd spoken to you."

Curry glanced at Charlotte, who'd been standing silently, listening to the two men's exchange. She was staring incredulously at her husband.

"You can't seriously be considering…?" she stammered.

"We need a few moments alone," he told Kid quietly, taking his wife's arm and leading her toward the door. "I'll meet you downstairs in a little while," he called to his partner as they entered the hotel.

Kid stood watching as the couple went inside. His own jaw set firmly, he slowly shook his head. _'I didn't mean to involve you in this Heyes.' _Even as the thought entered his mind, he knew that there was nothing he could do to change that now.

The conversation in the hotel room began as a heated discussion.

"I can't let this thing go and not do something about it. Catherine and the Wainwrights, they're family. The Kid and I can get these guys—stop them. We may be the only ones who can," Heyes said, firmly.

"You're not lawmen, why not let the law go after them?" Charlotte was equally firm in her response.

"The law," Heyes scoffed, "was never as good as we were." He met her eyes, "I don't want to leave you, but..."

"Then don't," she said, defiantly. "Let the law do their job. Going after that gang isn't going to undo what's happened."

"Charlotte, I didn't ask you to stop being who you were, to give up teaching," his voice raising a notch in volume.

"That is hardly the same thing. I'm not going to get myself killed teaching a classroom full of children."

"You knew when you married me that something might happen, something like—"

"Something like an outlaw or gunman out for revenge, not something like this. Not your choice. You're throwing away everything we have here, all of our dreams and plans."

"I'm not throwing anything away, and this isn't my choice. I didn't start it but I'm going to finish it."

"Do you mean when you've killed them?" Charlotte's voice cracked slightly.

"Not necessarily, we'll let the law do that part if we can, but we are going to find them and see that justice is carried out." He paused, and then added "I'll be back when it's over."

Charlotte gave her husband a long hard look. "There's nothing I can say that will change your mind, is there?"

Heyes shook his head slowly. "I have to do this."

The conversation in the hotel room ended in silence.

Heyes turned quietly and walked out.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Chapter Five

An hour after leaving Kid Curry downstairs at the hotel, Heyes found him in the local saloon. "Looks like you've had a couple of those already," Heyes said, indicating the empty glasses in front of Curry.

"I thought you were only going to be a few minutes."

"Well, I had a little thinking to do. Did you find the men from Midwest?

Curry nodded. "I told them I'd be over to see them tonight."

"_We'll_ be over to see them," Heyes clarified.

"You don't have to do this, Heyes."

"You don't think I'm gonna let you do this thing by yourself, do you?"

"It wasn't your family that got murdered."

Heyes didn't bother arguing the point that Eliza had been married to another man or that Eliza and Joseph weren't exactly his family either. Catherine was his daughter and that made them family to the Kid. He knew how Kid still felt about Eliza and it grieved him to see his partner having to face the loss of another loved one.

"I love Catherine too, you know. And what about what that gang is doing out there? People are starting to call them the "New" Devil's Hole Gang and they still think of Heyes and Curry when they say it. It's only a matter of time before folks start thinking of us as murderers. Besides, we both know there's only one way to get into Devil's Hole and get the trust of that gang."

Curry stared at his partner, his eyes narrowing slightly. "You don't think they'd take me in without you?"

"I think the only way they'll let either of us in is if they think we've gone back to outlawing and you can't do that by yourself."

Curry's jaw dropped. "What is that supposed to mean? You don't think I can rob somebody without you?"

"I don't think you can pull off a 'Hannibal Heyes' plan without me and that's what you're gonna need to take down that gang. We're partners, Kid, always have been, nothing changes that."

Curry gave him a wary look. "What makes you think the railroad detectives will go along with your plan?"

Heyes gave his partner a confident grin. "Because it's the only plan that'll work."

The two men each finished another shot of whiskey before they headed out onto the street—Curry going to check in at the hospital and Heyes making a visit to the telegraph office.

The hospital was strangely quiet when Kid walked through the front door. Not finding anyone in the front entry, he hurried toward the patient rooms. On rounding the corner, he met Charlotte coming down the hall. Her face told him all he needed to know.

She came to him and embraced him. "I'm so sorry, Jed," she said, softly. "They came to tell you at the hotel and I didn't know where to find you."

"Thank you Charlotte," he said, sincerely. "Give me a few minutes, will ya?"

"Of course."

Eliza still lay in the bed, looking more peaceful than she had that morning. Jed sat down next to her and took her hand in his. Charlotte blinked back a tear and looked away. Not wanting to intrude on a private moment, she stood in the doorway and waited. Jed was speaking softly, but she could still hear his words.

"I'm so sorry, Eliza. So sorry about everything. You deserved better than me, I hope you found it. I hope you were happy. I promise I'll take care of Catherine and I promise you I'll get the men that did this. I promise you they'll pay."

Charlotte looked back at the scene in the room; she swallowed hard as the tears she'd been holding back began to flow freely. She waited while Jed said goodbye and then followed him back down the street to their hotel.

Early that evening, Kid and Heyes met Jennings and Blackburn in the detectives' hotel room.

"We'll help you find them, but we going to do it our way," Heyes said, as soon as the group was seated.

"A posse would never make it into Devil's Hole, there are too many lookout spots for a rifleman to sit and pick off the riders," Curry told them. "The only way is for us to go in and bring them out into the open."

Jennings nodded his agreement. "That seems reasonable. How soon can you leave?"

"It's not that simple," Curry said, glancing over at his partner. "We've been out of the business for too long to simply show up and expect them to accept us. They've got to believe we've gone back to outlawing if we want them to take us in and trust us."

"You've done plenty. That should be enough for 'em," Blackburn scowled.

"We'd have no reason to go up into those hills if we weren't on the run," Heyes said, in a steady and logical voice. "That gang isn't stupid and they've gotta be expecting you to try and send someone after them."

Jennings and Blackburn exchanged a look.

"I thought about that myself," Jennings admitted.

"How are you going to convince them you're outlaws again? You can't just take out an ad in the newspaper." Blackburn asked, skeptically.

"No, but you can," Heyes replied, smoothly.

"What do you mean?" Jennings asked.

"You could write a newspaper article saying we robbed one of your trains," Curry told him.

Jennings nodded.

"They'll need more than that," Heyes continued. "They have to need us."

"Need you how?" Blackburn asked.

"Need us for something they can't do. Up until now they've been taking money off the passengers. They hit trains that have wealthy passengers carrying large sums of money, gold, or jewelry. You'll announce that all valuables will have to be placed in safes provided by the railroad."

"What if they can open the safe?" Blackburn looked skeptical.

"I doubt it, it's a dying art. They've gone for the easy money so far—right out of the pockets of dead men," Heyes declared.

"Which brings us to our last point," Curry said, with a hesitant glance at his partner.

"What else?" Jennings asked.

"What they took off the dead passengers must have made it worth their while, and they only hit one car, not the whole train. How did they know which passengers had money on them?"

"That's something I've wondered about too," Jennings admitted. "I'm afraid they may have a partner somewhere in Midwest. That's the other reason we're here talking to you. Mr. Harlow, president of the railroad, has authorized us to take whatever measures we think are necessary to get to the bottom of this—and no one else in the company knows how we're planning to do it."

Heyes gave his partner a worried glance. "If something happens to you two, what guarantee do we have that anyone will ever know we were helping you and not really robbing the railroad?"

"I'll write a letter stating what the plan is and leave it in a safety deposit box right here in Laramie," Blackburn told them.

"It'll have to be believable; we'll need a train full of witnesses. Everyone will have to believe we've really gone back to robbing trains. We don't know where their source is, or how many spies they have out, gathering information for them."

"If we give you access to one of the trains, what guarantee do we have that you won't just take the money and run?" Blackburn questioned.

"Nothing but our word," Curry said, glaring at the other man. "You're the one coming to us for help."

"That's good enough for us, isn't it, Joe?" Jennings said, with a warning glance at Blackburn. "Tell us what you need to get started."

After things were settled with the Midwest detectives, Heyes and Kid returned to their own hotel. They stayed up long into the night hashing things out, forming the only plan that either of them thought had any chance of succeeding—and one that neither of them liked.

Charlotte sat across from the two men and listened. She had stayed up with them; drinking coffee and biting her tongue when she wanted to scream that what they were planning to do was insane. She'd been grateful that they'd allowed her to stay, even if she hadn't liked what she was hearing. Maybe, she thought, they'd known it would be easier this way. She wouldn't need to have it explained to her later; she'd know what her part needed to be.

It was decided that Charlotte would leave for Pine Bluffs in the morning, with Catherine and the baby, while Jed stayed on in Laramie to make arrangements for Joseph's and Eliza's bodies to be sent back to New Mexico. Heyes would begin putting their other plans into action.

000000000

A few short hours later, Charlotte sat at the hospital with Catherine and baby Joseph. She wondered fleetingly how she would manage with both of them, but her concerns were eased as she watched Catherine sit in the rocking chair with her brother. Even though she seemed to be in a world of her own, she had readily accepted the boy into her arms and he seemed to provide her with some comfort.

Charlotte looked up to see Jed walk into the room. The pain and vulnerability that she had seen on his face the day before had been replaced by something different, something dark. His face was set with a determination that sent a shiver running down her spine. The blue eyes that were usually soft and kind had turned hard and cold. What she saw in those eyes was the steely resolve and detachment from emotion that had been his only defense against the bloodshed and violence he had been a part of over the years. This wasn't Jed, her trusted friend; this was Kid Curry, dangerous and deadly.

"You'll be leaving soon," he said, bluntly. "Take care of them." His eyes rested on his daughter, but he did not go to her.

"You know I will," Charlotte assured him, biting back the words she wanted to say_…be careful, take care of Hannibal, bring him back to me…_

After he had gone, she looked back at the silent girl, gently rocking in the chair, holding the baby tightly against her body and oblivious to the recent conversation. Frustration and anger swept over her as she remembered the spirited young girl, so filled with life that she had met last summer.

Hannibal Heyes stood in the doorway and watched; grateful that he had found a woman like Charlotte and desperately hoping they'd still have a chance at the life they'd planned. He took a step into the room and his wife looked up.

"Go," she said, with a determination to her voice that surprised them both. "Just go and do what you have to do."

Heyes looked into the face of the woman he'd vowed to spend the rest of his life with. He hated the pain he saw there, pain he was causing. There was so much he wanted to say to her, but for once, he didn't have the words. He simply nodded and then he was gone, out the door and into the street to join his partner.

As she watched him go, she shuddered at the thought that she might never see him again.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Hannibal Heyes smiled politely as the bank manager ushered him into the back room.

"Right this way, gentleman," the manager said as he opened the lock securing the vault room.

Once in front of the rows of safe deposit boxes, Heyes turned to the two gentlemen he was with. "Well, don't you think it's about time you showed me that letter?" he asked, impatiently.

After a look from Blackburn, the bank manager discreetly left the other gentlemen alone with their box.

"Okay, Heyes, here it is." Jennings took an envelope from his pocket and placed it in the other man's outstretched hand.

"Alright," Heyes said, after a few minutes. "This states that what we're about to do is on behalf of the railroad and for the purpose of apprehending the murderous gang of outlaws that has been raiding your trains." He folded the letter and returned it to the envelope, and then he placed it in the safety deposit box.

Blackburn locked the box and handed one key to Heyes while he pocketed the other. "If anything happens to either of us," he made a gesture indicating Jennings and himself, "this will be your insurance."

"I'll also talk to the marshal so he'll know what you're doing, but everyone else will think you've really gone back to robbing trains. Are you sure you want to do it this way? With no backup?" Jennings' face showed his concern.

"It's the safest way," Heyes replied. "The Kid and I will find the gang, but you two are going to have to figure out who the inside man at Midwest is. If I were you, I'd start with the men who had access to the insurance claims."

Blackburn's face suddenly darkened. "Why do you say that?"

"Well, the easiest way to find out which passengers are carrying valuables is to see who has taken out insurance. And then, I assume the railroad requires proof that a passenger was carrying a large amount of cash before paying out to the relatives?"

"The personal property declarations," Jennings said, with a nod.

"You know quite a bit about how railroads operate, Mr. Heyes," Blackburn said, gruffly. "I presume that is due to your previous line of work?"

Heyes smiled. "I know quite a bit about a great number of things, Mr. Blackburn."

"You'll send us updates as frequently as you can?" Jennings asked, changing the subject.

"We'll contact you when we can, but there are no telegraph lines coming out of Devil's Hole you know."

"You'll have to get word to us before the next robbery; we just can't have another incident like…" Jennings face twisted into a grimace.

"Don't worry, if the Kid and I are with the gang, there won't be the kind of carnage you're investigating here."

"Good luck then, Mr. Heyes," Jennings said, extending his hand.

Heyes took it and gave the detective a nod. "We'll be in touch," was all he said, as he turned and left the bank.

000000000

Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry entered the saloon with money in their pockets, like they had so many times in their younger days. This time it was different, but they found themselves filled with many of the same old emotions.

"Heyes, I can't believe how easy that was," Curry said, with a shake of his head, as he sat down at a table near the wall.

"I can't believe how much I enjoyed that," Heyes admitted with a sheepish grin spreading across his face.

"You're just feeling like a big shot because you were able to open the safe without using the combination that Blackburn gave you," Curry said, with a short laugh. Heyes watched his partner settle back in his chair and raise his beer glass. "Heyes, I gotta admit, you've still got it."

As much as he was enjoying the satisfaction of cracking the safe, he was enjoying watching his partner relax and laugh even more. It had only been two weeks since Eliza's death, but it felt like years since he'd seen the Kid smile.

Both men enjoyed a tall beer and the sights and sounds of the saloon, all the while watching the other patrons for any sign of recognition or suspicion.

"Kid, do you think we've been out of it too long to know what we're supposed to be watching for?"

"Naw, I figure we still know what a sheriff looks like. We didn't see any sign of a posse on our tail."

"That's what I mean. Do you think we mighta missed something?"

"Relax, Heyes, nobody followed us. Save your worrying for when we ride into Devil's Hole."

Heyes noticed his partner glancing at a pretty brunette girl who had been making her way around the room and gave him a questioning look.

Curry quickly shook his head. "No, I'm not interested in that tonight."

The girl approached the table and laid her hand on Curry's shoulder. "Anything else I can get either of you boys?" she asked, sweetly. Her offer clearly did not refer to a refill of their drinks.

"No thanks, ma'am, we'll just be finishing our beers and heading out," Curry told her.

The girl quickly replaced her disappointed look with a smile. "Well, you know way to find me if you change your mind," she said, lightly, as she moved on to another table.

Heyes shrugged. "Okay, well, I just thought…I wouldn't mind if you wanted to."

"No, I don't. I'll stay here and finish my beer and then I think we should get some rest. We have a long ride ahead of us."

Heyes considered that for a moment. "Yeah, we should probably sleep in shifts, just to make sure."

Curry looked at his partner for a minute and then began to laugh.

"What?" Heyes demanded.

"Some wild outlaws we are," he laughed.

"Well, as long as that gang we're lookin' for doesn't see us like this," Heyes agreed.

"I don't think I'll have any trouble bein' real serious when I catch up with them," Curry said, dryly, his face no longer showing any amusement.

"No, I don't think I will either. Let's go get a room at that little place across the street. Looks like it has a good view of the street."

Both men drained their glasses and left the saloon.

000000000

The two riders left at dawn, heading out toward the hills that they had known so well for so long.

"Heyes, you think they're really in there?" Curry asked his partner after a few hours of riding.

"Yeah, there're in there. There's no place else they could go. Blackburn said they'd been searching the hills and nearby towns for the last month."

The other man gave him a skeptical look. "Nobody's seen 'em. How do they know who they are looking for? It could be the mayor of Cheyenne out robbing those trains."

"They're in there," Heyes scoffed. "The only question is who are they with? Is it anyone we know?"

"It's been ten years; you think we'd know anybody in there?"

"Could be an old timer—somebody who hid out there while we were running things."

"Are you calling us old timers?" Curry gave his friend a look of mock offense.

"No, we were just kids when we were leading the gang," Heyes said, with a grin and Curry nodded in acknowledgement.

The two rode on in companionable silence for a few more miles, and then slowly began to reminisce as the familiar ride brought back memories of another time.

When, at last, they began to ascend the trail that would take them into view of any lookouts in the rocks above, the two riders fell warily silent. Both were watching the cliffs above them and listening, intently, for any sounds that might indicate another man approaching.

As if on cue, both men reined their horses to a stop and turned to look at the other. They had reached the location where, in their day, a rider entering the Hole would fire the signal shots indicating they 'belonged'.

"You wanna do it?" Heyes asked.

"Someone we know you say? Someone from the old days in there?" Curry asked with a questioning look at his friend, as he slowly drew his gun and fired three quick shots.

When it was done, they rode on, still not hearing or seeing any signs of life.

"You know, Heyes," Curry began, when they were almost in view of the cabins, "I'm starting to think there isn't even anybody—"

Before he could finish his sentence, the two were met with a barrage of bullets. The startled horses reared and nearly sent both riders flying. The men held on and managed to control their mounts just well enough to remain in their saddles, while ducking and leaning close to the animals. There was no point in returning fire because there was no way to tell where the shots were coming from. A quick glance between them confirmed that the other was unhurt and indicated that they were merely being given a warning. When the firing stopped, both men raised their hands and tried to keep their horses as calm as possible.

"Hello?" Heyes called loudly. "We'd like to introduce ourselves. We're alone, you know that." Both men waited, hands held high and hearts pounding.

After a few minutes, two riders descended from the rocks above and stopped in front of the new arrivals. Heyes smiled. The two men looked young and nervous; he could easily talk his way past these two and into the Hole.

"What do you want?" the first young men asked.

"Well, I just told you that. We'd like to introduce ourselves to your boss, so if you'll just take us to him, we'd like to head on in now."

The second rider, who looked to be in his early twenties with shoulder length dark, nearly black hair, looked on in amusement. "You don't seem to realize who's pointing the guns at whom here," he said, with a grin. "We say whether you leave this spot riding your horses or slung over 'em."

"If your boss finds out we came all this way to see him and you shot us before we had a chance to talk, well, I wouldn't want to be in your shoes," Heyes warned.

The dark haired rider continued to look at Heyes incredulously. "Says who?"

Heyes tilted his head toward his partner. "Kid Curry," he said, with a broad grin.

"Hannibal Heyes," Kid returned, waving one hand toward his partner.

Both of the younger men's eyes widened. "Heyes and Curry are dead or gone to Mexico or something. You can't be them."

"You just let the others down there in Devil's Hole decide that," Heyes said, his voice revealing a more threatening tone than he had showed before.

The young men's eyes darted between the two outlaw legends, not quite sure what to do.

In a split second, Kid saw his chance and took it. His gun was in his hand, cocked and pointed at the smart mouthed young outlaw before the boy knew what had happened.

"Now do you believe he's Kid Curry?" Heyes asked.

"Why don't you just stop jabbering and put your guns away so we can ride on in," Kid said, with a look and tone that caused both young men to holster their weapons and nod their heads.

"We know the way," Heyes said, urging his horse into a canter and leading the way.

Kid indicated for the two sentries to follow, while he, gun still in his hand, took up the rear.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

The familiar trail opened up into a clearing where a dozen small cabins, a corral, and a few storehouses were located. Heyes stopped and looked around silently for a few moments as old feelings washed over him. It seemed like only yesterday that he and Kid had been running things here, and yet, it felt like a lifetime ago. He glanced around and noticed that some of the cabins looked like they had been repaired recently. The corral had new fence rails and a new small building stood off to the side of the cluster of cabins; it appeared to be some type of storeroom. It didn't take long for the new inhabitants of Devil's Hole to notice that two strangers had entered their hideout.

Kid looked from man to man. Most wore guns on their hips and looked as young as the two sentries they'd met on the trail. His eyes settled on one man standing apart from the others and looked a little older than his compatriots; maybe thirty years old or so. The man stood leaning against the doorframe of one of the cabins, watching them intently. What caught Kid's attention were the man's eyes. They were looking directly at him. Instinct told Kid that this was the man to watch.

The two locked eyes for a moment, sizing each other up, before Curry's attention turned to a man striding purposefully toward them. The man's hair was almost white, but he had a gait and air about him that gave the impression of a younger man.

The white haired man stopped in front of the horses and squinted up at them, inspecting the new arrivals. "What's the meaning of this?" he demanded, with an irritated look at his two young sentries.

"We stopped 'em on the trail, White," the dark haired young man replied.

The older man scowled. "You let them ride in here without taking their guns," he said accusingly, then turned his attention back to the new arrivals.

"Who are you and what's your business here?" he asked in an authoritative manner that told Heyes all he needed to know.

"Well, I'd say my business might be similar to yours," Heyes said as a slow smile spread across his face.

"Is that so?" the white haired man asked.

By now, the gunman had made his way across the yard and stood beside the leader. Two other young men flanked them as well. All three had guns drawn and aimed at the riders.

"Who are you?" the man in charge asked again.

"I'm Hannibal Heyes, and this is Kid Curry,"

"Really, and I'm Jesse James," the white haired man replied, straight-faced. Several of the young men who were now standing around them began to laugh or snicker.

Kid stiffened and looked at his partner. Heyes continued to smile pleasantly at the man standing in front of him.

"How do you account for us knowing the way into Devil's Hole?" he asked. "The only thing I can't figure is how _you_ knew the way in. I haven't heard of anybody using this place since the last of our boys cleared out."

The leader considered this for a moment, and then turned to one of the young men by his side. "Go get Charlie, bring him out here," he told him.

"Right away, White," the boy said and hurried toward the cabins.

"Charlie?" Kid asked. Heyes shrugged. They'd known several men named Charlie over the years.

"Mr. White?" Heyes asked, "Would you mind if we got down off our horses? We've had a long ride and we'd like to stretch our legs."

"All right, you can get down, but hand over your guns first."

Kid glared at the man and made no attempt to move.

Heyes removed his gun and handed it to the man standing closest to him. "Come on, Kid, we'd have done the same thing if someone had ridden in here like this when we were runnin' things."

"Nobody ever rode in unannounced…when we were runnin' things," Kid said with a glance at the two young men who had been the lookouts. Both of them bristled slightly at the rebuke. Kid handed over his gun with a scornful grunt.

"Foster, McGill, you boys get on back to your post, and I don't want to see any more men riding in here unless you've got their guns. Is that understood?" White scowled at the two young men.

"Yes sir, right away." The two wheeled their horses around and rode quickly back up the trail, relieved to be sent away with only a warning.

Heyes and Curry dismounted and waited uneasily for the man named Charlie to arrive. It only took a few minutes before a group of men hurried toward them.

"Charlie Pickett!" Heyes exclaimed when the man at the center of the group came into view. "The last I heard about you was that you were working on a big spread down in Texas." Charlie was an older man, with a face that showed the wear of years living out on the range. The man had been a top notch chuck wagon cook who'd been involved in rustling in his younger days. Charlie had spent a few months hiding out in Devil's Hole, but never taken part in any robberies. It had been obvious early on that he was no hardened outlaw and Heyes had allowed him to stay on as long as he was willing to cook for the men.

"Howdy, Heyes, Kid. Good to see you boys," Pickett said hesitantly.

"What are you doing here, Charlie? Did you get yourself into trouble again after all these years?" Heyes studied the older man's face.

"Not exactly, Heyes…" Charlie hesitated and looked at White.

"That'll be all, Pickett," the leader said, dismissing the other man. Holstering his pistol, he turned back to the new arrivals. "Well, this is quite an honor. The infamous Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry. What brings you two to Devil's Hole after all these years?"

Heyes and Kid exchanged a glance. "Well, Mister White, why don't you invite us in for something to cut this trail dust and we'll tell you." Heyes replied pleasantly.

White's face softened and he smiled, though not entirely warmly. "Sure, let's have a drink."

"It's not Mister White, it's just 'White', on account of his hair," one of the younger men interjected. White scowled at him and the boy suddenly looked fearful.

"That's right," the leader told Heyes. "Just call me White."

"Well, White, do you think you can see fit to give us our guns back now?" Heyes asked, flashing a bright smile.

White's eyes met Heyes' as he considered the request. "After we talk," he said after a moment. "Let's go." White gave his men a nod and they holstered their guns.

White led the way and Heyes followed. The group of men that had gathered began to break up as they either followed Heyes and White or returned to their work around the yard.

Eventually, only Curry and one other man remained. Kid studied the man opposite him. He was tall and lean, with a narrow face and dark eyes. A satisfied smile was fixed on the man's face. Kid recognized the man for what he was—a gunman, and a killer.

"Kid Curry, never thought I'd have a chance to meet you face to face," the man said, with a hint of a challenge in his voice.

Curry stared back in silence.

"Tom Kinsey," the man said after a moment, waiting for Kid to respond.

Kid's face showed no emotion. "I'm going to get that drink," he said, and turned to follow Heyes and White. He'd heard of Kinsey, of course, but he wasn't going to give the man the satisfaction.

Tom Kinsey was a hired gun, a man who killed for pay and didn't care whose money it was that bought the kill. He had just begun making a name for himself in Texas and the southwest about the time when Heyes and Kid were embarking on their quest for amnesty. He had never been connected with train robberies before, but then this was no regular gang. Kid had a feeling he had just met Eliza's killer and it was only a matter of time until he settled the score.

Kid followed Heyes and White into the large building across from the cabins. He stood by the door, watching Heyes and White take a seat at a table along the far wall. The room consisted of a long bar and several small tables. Heyes and White settled themselves at the table in the farthest corner of the room. One of the other men brought a bottle of whiskey and two glasses.

A dozen men crowded into the makeshift saloon. Most of the outlaws were young and rough looking, an uneducated bunch that had been ripe for the promise of easy money and the thrill of adventure. Only a few looked as if they weren't newcomers to the outlaw trail. One of the seasoned bunch was Ike Ridley, a short, stocky, man who was wanted in several states, including Wyoming. Although Ridley had never ridden with the Devil's Hole gang, he had crossed paths with the gang on a few occasions. Kid glanced back to the corral where he had been standing with Kinsey, expecting to see the man strolling toward the saloon; instead, he saw someone who appeared to be Kinsey riding back up the road that led out of the Hole. Kid glanced nervously at Heyes, but his partner was focused on his conversation with the new leader of Devil's Hole.

"Well now," White began, as he filled the two glasses, "what brings you back to Devil's Hole after all this time?"

"You do," Heyes replied, taking a drink. "You've got quite a gang pulled together here, but you need my help to keep it paying off."

"Oh really?" White laughed, "How is that?"

"You've been robbing the passengers. It's only a matter of time until the railroad insists that all valuable be placed in safes aboard the trains for security purposes."

"That won't be a problem," White said simply.

"I assume you have an inside man, someone you think will get you the safe's combinations. But they don't give those combinations out to very many people. Anyone who knows the combination would be immediately suspected and investigated. You'll lose your contact and all the information he's providing." Heyes let that sink in for a moment. "Unless you had someone else to open the safes, or at least appear to open them." Heyes sat back and watched White's face.

"Appear to open them?" White questioned.

"You get the combinations, just to speed things up, but with me along on the robbery, no one can say for sure that the combinations were leaked. That way, your man will be safe and can continue to provide you with the information you need."

White considered what Heyes had just proposed. "What makes you so sure I have a source inside the railroad?"

Heyes merely shrugged. "You know which trains to stop, which cars are carrying passengers with large sums of money; there's no way you could that without someone at the railroad tipping you off."

"You may be right about the passengers' valuables being moved to a safe. I've considered that myself," White conceded. "Now why don't you tell me why a 'reformed outlaw' like you is offering to help me rob a train?"

"The Kid and I are back in the business. We hit a train last week, just outside of Sweetwater," Heyes answered smugly.

"I'd heard you gave up outlawing almost ten years ago and had a ranch somewhere now," White looked curiously at the man across from him.

"That's what we wanted everyone to think, especially the law. You don't really think 'Hannibal Heyes' was out of the business all together do you? I had to find a way to get the banks and railroads off our backs for a while. We've been living off the railroad's money for years now, right under their noses. It has to run out some time though and now seemed like the right time to come back in and get set again for a nice long time. I don't want to work a ranch for the rest of my life! The Kid and I think a nice retirement in South America would be a whole lot more pleasant."

"What are you suggesting, Mr. Heyes?" White asked, beginning to take an interest.

"A business proposition, White. You have your source find out when the largest amounts of currency or gold will be aboard their trains and then after a few jobs, we all retire rich men."

"I can see your point about the safes, but what do I need him for?" White tilted his head in Curry's direction.

"We're partners, we always work together. You don't get me without him. Besides, he protects our interests—his and mine," Heyes added, with a slight edge to his voice.

"I'll think about it," White said, tossing back the last of the whiskey. "Now, how about a game of poker to pass the time?" the white haired outlaw suggested lightly, setting down his empty glass.

"Sure," Heyes reached into his jacket pocket and removed one of the bundles of money that he and Kid had, presumably, taken from the train they'd stopped the week before. He was becoming more convinced than ever that their precautions had been worth it. Nobody at Midwest, outside of the two detectives, knew that he and Kid hadn't returned to their old ways. Since he had no idea yet who White's contact inside the railroad was, they couldn't afford to take any chances.

White motioned for a few of the other men to join them. Ridley sat down next to White, and a man who called himself 'Shorty' sat next to Heyes. 'Shorty' was well over six feet, with a thick black beard and mustache. Several of the younger men stood around the table and exchanged nervous looks.

"Some of these boys haven't been on a job yet, so they don't have any cash on them, isn't that right, boys?" White gave the young men a rather patronizing smile. "You can watch though, watch and learn. Cooper, you've gotten paid, come on over here." A young man who looked about to be about twenty years old, with red hair and freckles, rushed over to the table and sat down. The boy looked oddly out of place, Heyes thought, in this room full of ruffians.

"Why don't you have your partner join us?" White suggested to Heyes, and Kid walked over, somewhat reluctantly, and sat down at the table. "Dealer's choice," the white haired man stated, as he began to shuffle the cards.

The sound of two distant gunshots brought a momentary halt to the room's activities, but with no more than a nervous glance at White, the men returned to their drinks and cards. Heyes stared at White for a moment before speaking. "What the hell was that?" he asked, afraid he knew exactly what it had been.

White merely shrugged. "Just Kinsey, taking care of business," he replied.

Heyes glanced at his partner. Curry's face told Heyes that he had made the same conclusion as to the reason for the two gunshots. Heyes looked briefly around the room filled with young men eager to make it rich. _How many of these men were expendable? Kid, we're going to have to play this one real carefully,_ he thought to himself as he watched White deal the cards.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

"Where's White?" Heyes asked, his eyes scanning the clearing in front of the cabins. The pink of the early morning sky was just beginning to fade over the mountains.

"Gone," Kid said simply, as he continued brushing the buckskin gelding that he had been attending to for the last half hour.

"Wadda ya mean—gone?" Heyes asked sharply, "I thought you drew the early watch to keep an eye on him?"

"I did watch him—watched him ride right on out of here with Shorty."

"But I said—"

"Yeah, I know, don't let him leave. Tell that to Kinsey over there."

Heyes eyes traveled to the gunman who was standing on the other side of the corral. "You have your gun back, don't you?" Heyes asked.

Kid gave his friend a withering look. "You used to frown on me killing people before breakfast."

"I didn't say kill him, I—oh never mind. What else is going on around here?"

"Well, those two over there aren't too happy," Kid indicated two young men standing near the supply shed. "They had words with Kinsey right after White rode out. They've been standing over there looking scared to death ever since."

"That red haired kid was in the poker game last night. He won a couple of hands but not too much," Heyes observed quietly.

"I heard they both rode with the gang on the last robbery," Kid added.

"We'll try and get them alone later today and see what we can find out," Heyes said quietly.

"Let's go," Kid said, seeing several of the men filing into the cabin where the meals were served. "I ask questions better on a full stomach."

Heyes smiled, "Charlie always did make a good breakfast. If those chickens he's got in that coop around the back of his cabin are any good at laying eggs, we're in for some good meals."

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By noon, most of the men were up and entertaining themselves with games of horseshoes, target practice or a casual game of cards. Heyes noticed that the two young men they'd seen by the corral earlier that morning seemed to missing from the group. He wandered around the small cluster of cabins and structures that comprised the living quarters for the outlaws hiding out at Devil's Hole. There was only one way in or out of the Hole, and that trail was guarded by White's men. He felt a rising sense of urgency to find the two young men. They looked like they were afraid of Kinsey, which meant they might be willing to make a deal. Having been part of the last two robberies, they would have more information than the other new recruits.

Walking toward the corral, Heyes saw Kinsey standing in the same spot he'd been in that morning. _Must be his post, _he thought.

"You seen that red haired kid I was playing poker with last night? What was his name, Cooper?"

"Why do you want to know?" Kinsey asked, suspiciously.

"He owes me some money from last night's game. I just wanted to collect," Heyes lied smoothly.

"Huh, funny. That's the same thing your partner said."

"Yeah?" Heyes commented simply. "You know where they are, or not?"

Kinsey shrugged. "The boy is on sentry duty. I think Curry went over to join some of the men shooting at rabbits up on the ridge."

Heyes frowned, _That doesn't sound like Kid. Well, maybe he has his reasons._ "I'll go look up there. Thanks," Heyes nodded and left.

A short ride to the ridge confirmed Heyes' original conclusion. His partner was not there. Returning his horse to the corral, Heyes decided to speak to his old friend, Charlie Pickett.

"Hiya, Charlie," Heyes called out as he entered the cabin where Pickett was already hard at work preparing the evening meal.

"Oh, hi, Heyes. I was sorta thinkin' you might come by."

A quick glance around the room told Heyes that they were alone. "So now will you tell me what you're doing here? I thought your days of cooking for outlaws were long gone."

"Well, Heyes, to tell you the truth, so did I," Pickett confessed warily.

"So what happened?"

"White." Pickett nearly spat out the word. "Somehow he found out I spend some time up here. He came to see me one day at the ranch where I was working. He gave me a choice—show him the way to Devil's Hole and be his cook, or have my boss find out about my past."

"But Charlie, that was almost fifteen years ago, surely nobody would hold that against you now?"

"I didn't get no amnesty like you did, Heyes. There ain't no statute o' limitations in Wyoming, in case you forgot. I can still go to prison for what I done."

Heyes scowled, he hadn't forgotten, it was why he and Kid had kept trying for so long to get their amnesty. "I'm sorry, Charlie."

"But what about you and the Kid? You got square with the law and here you are back here?"

"Well, that's sort of a long story. We've got our reasons. What can you tell me about White and the men he's got with him?"

"Most of 'em are just kids. Ridley is his right hand man, he leads the robberies. Shorty's a pretty tough hombre, but not too bright. Kinsey keeps everyone in line—he's always in on all the robberies."

"What about White, doesn't he go?"

"Nope, never rides along on the robberies."

Seeing Heyes' puzzled expression, Charlie continued, "White's the only one who gets the information about the robberies and he don't tell nobody how he does it. He rides out with 'em sometimes, but he never goes along to board the trains."

"I guess even if the whole gang got caught, White could just start up again," Heyes mused.

"Kinda discourages anybody from tryin' to take over the gang too, they'd never know how White got his information."

"Have many of these men been with White long?" Heyes asked.

Charlie shrugged. "Ridley and Shorty have been here the longest, and Kinsey. The others come and go."

"Go?" Heyes asked, with eyebrows raised.

Charlie shrugged again. "Sometimes they don't come back from the robberies, sometimes they don't come back after breakfast."

"Like those two boys last night? The ones that were guarding the trail when Kid and I rode in?"

Charlie nodded. "I don't ask questions, I just cook their meals and they leave me alone."

"Thanks, Charlie. I need to go find the Kid." Heyes was becoming increasingly concerned about his partner's whereabouts.

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High on the trail leading into Devil's Hole, Kid Curry watched and listened from the cover of the large shrubbery growing alongside the mountain trail. As he'd hoped, the conversation he was eavesdropping on finally turned to the subject he'd been waiting to hear.

"Do you think Kinsey knows?" The redhead asked, nervously.

"How could he, Cooper, unless you told someone besides me?" his blond companion answered.

"I think he knows," Cooper muttered.

"Well, what if he does?"

"He'll kill me, that's what," Cooper admitted, painfully.

"Well, it'd be your own fault, you knew the rules."

"I didn't break the rule, exactly," Cooper hedged.

"No? What do you call leaving a witness alive?"

"I didn't expect anybody to be in that car when I climbed in. I was going through to get to the passenger car and there she was, holding that little baby. I just couldn't shoot her."

Kid's body stiffened and he leaned forward, his senses suddenly alerted. _Catherine—they know she's alive._

"She didn't see nobody but me. I told her to hide there in that car and not come out or make a sound."

"White said anybody who sees even one of our faces doesn't live to tell about it, or every one of us is in trouble," the blond insisted.

The sound of a horse coming up the trail hushed the conversation.

"Howdy, boys," Kinsey greeted the two young men.

"Howdy, Mr. Kinsey," the boys replied uneasily.

"I want to thank you for telling me about that little problem, Dawkins," Kinsey said with a broad smile.

Cooper's eyes went wide as he stared at his friend.

"But now I have two problems," Kinsey's smile faded. "That girl back in Laramie and two men that know I left a witness behind. I don't like anybody makin' me look bad."

Kinsey drew his gun and pointed it at Dawkins.

Kid rested his hand on the butt of his revolver and cautiously made his way closer to the men on the trail.

Dawkins' eyes were now as filled with fear as Cooper's had been. "Mr. Kinsey, I didn't tell nobody but you, honest."

"Good, that's all I wanted to know," Kinsey said, smiling again. He shifted his weight as though to return the gun to his holster, but in a split second raised the gun again and fired. Dawkins stumbled backward from the impact, and stared wide eyed as a red stain appeared on his chest. Slowly, he slumped to the ground, his eyes still staring lifelessly.

"Now, Cooper, you see what happens when you don't follow orders? You get other people killed," Kinsey scolded, as though talking to a small boy.

"I—I didn't mean—to get no one killed," Cooper stammered.

"Of course not, you just didn't follow orders, and you know what happens then," Kinsey raised his gun again.

"Hold it, Kinsey," a strong voice sounded from behind the man.

"What—" the gunman turned and glanced back, into the face of Kid Curry.

Kid stood facing him, his gun also drawn and pointing at Kinsey's chest.

"Stay out of this, Curry, it ain't none of your business," Kinsey declared. "I keep the men in line, and if they get outta line, I take care of 'em."

"I think you've taken care of quite enough, now I'm taking care of things," Kid stood his ground and did not waver.

"Why don't we let White settle this when he gets back," Kinsey suggested.

Kid remained silent for a moment, as though considering the suggestion. "I don't think so," he replied finally.

"Well, what do we do about this then?" the other man asked.

"You or me, Kinsey," Kid responded.

The gunman nodded slowly, "Okay, Curry, why don't we go back down the trail a ways to where it opens up. We'll have Cooper count to three." As Kinsey spoke, he slowly lowered his gun and turned slightly away.

Kid's eyes never left the man's gun hand, and when he saw the man suddenly grip the gun tighter, he fired—leaping to the side as he did so.

Kinsey's bullet flew straight and unobstructed into a tree a few yards down the trail.

Curry's bullet found its target.

"Didn't…think…you were that fast," the hired killer choked out, as he lay in the dirt, bleeding.

Kid stood over him and put his boot over the man's gun, pushing it out of his reach. The precaution was unnecessary, as the man on the ground attempted to suck in a breath, and then lay still.

Neither man standing on the trail spoke for a while. Finally, Cooper broke the silence. "What are you going to do to me?" he asked simply.

Kid looked at the young man and sighed. "You know, Heyes and I never allowed anyone who rode with us to hurt the passengers, and they never did."

"I—I know, I heard all about the Devil's Hole Gang," the young man said, admiration and respect showing through in his voice. "How'd you manage it?"

"We didn't let men like _him_ in the gang. Did you tell anyone else, besides Dawkins there, about what happened on the train? About leaving a woman alive?"

Cooper shook his head shakily. _Kinsey had asked Dawkins that very question right before he shot him._

Kid nodded slowly. "Okay, forget it ever happened. Don't say another word about it. Now help me get those two over their horses so I can take 'em back and bury them."

The young man let out the breath he'd been holding. "What are you going to tell White and the others?"

"Kinsey and I had it out. I was faster. He backed Kinsey and I had to shoot him too."

Cooper looked confused. "But why would you say you killed Dawkins?"

"Do you want to explain why Kinsey killed him?"

"Well, no," Cooper said slowly.

"Besides, White seems to like killers," Curry added, sarcastically.

The ride back down the trail into Devil's Hole was made in silence. Curry rode in front, leading the two horses that carried the bodies of Dawkins and Kinsey. Cooper followed, reflecting on the fact that he had just seen the infamous Kid Curry in action and lived to tell about it. Oddly, he felt none of the fear and uneasiness that he'd always felt in Kinsey's presence.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

The sound of four horses coming down the trail got the attention of the outlaws who had been working around the corral. The men, who had been expecting to see White or Kinsey leading the group of riders, stopped what they were doing and stared as Kid rode in leading two horses with dead men draped over the saddles. The outlaws looked nervously at each other, none of them speaking.

"Kinsey and me had it out," Kid announced to the group, not waiting for their questions. "It seemed he thought there was only room for one gunfighter in this gang. Dawkins backed him, now they're both dead. Do any of the rest of you have a problem with that?"

A chorus of mumbled "no's" filled the air.

"What's White gonna say?" one of the younger men piped up.

"White needs a gunman. He had Kinsey, now he's got me. It shouldn't make any difference to him."

The men looked from one to the other, nodding and shrugging. "I figure he'll be just as happy 'bout Kid Curry riding with us as he was 'bout Tom Kinsey," a new voice said loudly.

Curry nodded, "I'd figure so." He looked at the man who'd spoken.

Mike Ridley stepped forward. "Never knew you as much of a killer, Kid. You got the stomach for what White wants done on these jobs?"

Kid gestured nonchalantly toward the bodies draped across the horses. "Does it look like I got a problem?" he asked casually.

"We'll see," Ridley responded.

"Why don't a couple of you help Cooper bury those two before the buzzards catch wind of 'em," Kid said sharply. "I'm gonna get a drink." He dismounted and headed toward the cabin where the men kept the alcohol. Only after he'd left the group of men behind, did he let his eyes search area for Heyes. He saw him standing near the door of the bunkhouse. The two men locked eyes for a moment, and then Heyes looked away. Kid turned back toward the make-shift saloon and headed in.

After Kid had poured himself a whiskey and downed the first shot, he saw Heyes enter the room and walk toward him. He poured himself another as Heyes sat down next to him. The two men sat in silence for a few minutes while Kid sipped the second drink.

"Well? Aren't you going to ask me what happened?" Curry asked finally.

"I figure you'll tell me if you want to," Heyes replied simply.

"Heyes, go ahead and ask."

"Ask what?"

"Ask me if I went up there because I wanted to kill him."

Heyes looked back with a neutral expression on his face, and simply shook his head.

"Don't you want to know?"

"No," Heyes said after a moment. "I don't need to. I've known you my whole life, and if you killed those men, then you had a damn good reason and that's good enough for me."

Kid sighed and looked down at his drink. "He shot that boy and he was about to shoot the other one. I stepped in and made it my fight, but it was a fair fight."

"I told you I knew that," Heyes said quietly.

The calm of the room was suddenly broken by the banging of doors as two men stormed into the room. White, Ridley, and Shorty stopped directly in front of the two seated men and glared at them.

"I'm assuming this is about Kinsey?" Curry asked calmly.

"Damn right, this is about Kinsey," White spat back. "Do you have any idea how much of this operation he was responsible for?"

"The killin' mostly," Curry replied.

"He made sure nobody could identify the gang, and nobody got caught," Shorty said, accusingly.

"The Kid and I robbed trains and banks for ten years and we never got caught. If you want somebody to handle security for you—he's your man."

White looked from Heyes to Curry, his eyes settling on the gunslinger's face. "Okay," he said finally, "but you take your orders directly from me. You do exactly as I say, is that clear?"

Kid held the other man's gaze without blinking. "Absolutely," he stated firmly.

"Alright then, let's go over the details of the next job." He moved to a table and sat down, followed by Ridley and Shorty. Heyes and Curry joined them at the table.

"There's a train running through Westbrook, two days ride from here. It's headed to Denver with a payroll for one of the mines. There won't be any passengers with valuables on board, so they don't think we'll hit them. The payroll wasn't publicized so nobody else knows they'll be carrying it." White paused and looked at the other men. "I have the combination."

Heyes let out a low whistle. "That's quite a bit of information for only being gone, what—seven or eight hours? Your contact must have met you at the entrance to the canyon."

"Never mind about my contact. His identity stays with me, and me alone, that's _my_ insurance," he smiled and glanced at Ridley, who shifted uncomfortably.

"You should trust me, White, I'm the one out there on those trains taking all the risks," Ridley said irritably.

"I do trust you," White smiled, "I trust you to do your job, and let me do mine." He sat back in his chair and looked at the men sitting around the table with him. "The four of you will board the train when it stops for water, just five miles south of Westbrook. There will only be one guard in the car with the safe. The door is locked from the outside, but you can fix that with a little dynamite. How many more men will you need to handle the rest of the train?"

"Two," Ridley said, at the same time Heyes answered "Four."

"Four," Heyes repeated, "so we can cover the rest of the train before any of them know what's happening. It's safer that way."

"Alright, I've got enough men for that," White agreed.

Ridley shot an angry look at Heyes, but said nothing.

"You said two days ride, where do we spend the night?" Curry asked.

"There's a town in the valley. It's not much of a town really, just a saloon and a general store. We keep them well paid and they don't ask a lot of questions."

"They got girls in that place," Shorty injected, with a wink.

White shrugged. "Some of the boys like to let off a little steam the night before a job. When you're finished on the train—" he turned to Curry, "I don't want any witnesses, do you understand?"

Curry nodded, "Sure, I understand," he said simply.

"Good, that's your job. No witnesses and no one follows you."

The men discussed the final details, and when they were finished, Heyes and Kid headed back to the bunk house.

"What are you going to do when we're on that train and it comes time to do _your job_?" Heyes asked when they were out of earshot of the others.

"You'll have to think of something before then, that's _your job_," Kid said wryly.

000000000

Later that night, Heyes and Kid sat together near an open camp fire out in front of the cabins. It was the first opportunity they'd had to be alone and talk since White had presented his plan. Most of the men had retreated to the saloon and were drinking or playing cards.

"I'm worried about Ridley," Curry was saying. "He's a wild card in this. I can't tell if he's loyal to White or just in it for himself."

"He's loyal to whoever pays him the biggest cut, all we have to do is make it worth his while."

"I hope you're right," Curry said, doubtfully. "So what's the plan?"

"I'm going to figure out a way to make White think his contact has fed him bad information—send White back looking for him."

"And then you follow White back to his contact?"

"That's about it," Heyes said, simply.

"What about Jennings and Blackburn? Those two detectives want to know what we've got planned. How are we going to tell them? There ain't no telegraph office in that town where we're spending the night before the robbery."

"I've been thinking about that too," Heyes scowled. "I'd like to send word back to Pine Bluffs too, tell Caldwell what's going on."

"Heyes, there's something that's been bothering me."

"What's that?"

"It's those railroad detectives. What if they are the ones behind this?"

"Kid, that doesn't make any sense. They wouldn't have sent us in here to stop the gang if they were profiting from the robberies."

"What if Blackburn is White's contact and sending us up here was Jennings' idea?"

"If Blackburn was the contact, then why didn't he just tell White to kill us when they met this morning? It doesn't make any sense."

"Unless," Kid suggested, "they wanted us to take the fall for the robberies and give White a chance to escape?"

"White can ride out of here any time he wants, and take all the money he wants with him."

"But what if it is them, what if nobody at Midwest really knows we're on their side?" Kid pressed.

"We'll just have to hope that's not the case, or else we're in big trouble," Heyes stared into the fire. "I'm gonna take a walk, he said finally."

Curry knew when to give his partner time to think. "I'll see you later then," he said, not getting up.

A few minutes later, Kid heard a man approaching.

"Hey, there you are!" Shorty called out. "Why are you out here when all the fun's inside?"

"Oh, just kinda nice to sit here and enjoy the peace and quiet," Curry told him.

"Say, what's it like to be back here? I bet it's a whole lot better than workin' some cattle ranch."

_Horse ranch_, he almost corrected, but it didn't matter. "It feels good, Shorty, just like coming home," Curry said quickly. "I'm getting too old to bust my back breaking horses."

"Well, you sure ain't getting too old to use that six-gun of yours. I saw Kinsey use his, and any man that can beat him, well, there just can't be a man better than that." Shorty shook his head in appreciation.

"Thanks Shorty, it always was the one thing I did best."

"Are you going to ride with us for a while?"

"I suppose so. A couple of big jobs with you boys and I'll be set."

"Yeah, White, he sure knows how to set 'em up. He's real anxious for you to ride with us too. He ain't so sure about Heyes though."

"Oh? Why's that?"

"He don't need no other 'leader,' he does the plannin' and he's got Ridley too."

"You think he'd want me to stay? Even if Heyes wasn't here?" Curry asked.

"Oh sure, he knows talent when he sees it."

Curry laughed. "Well, that's a switch, usually people want Heyes and not me."

"You could have a real bright future with us, Kid," Shorty assured him.

"Thanks Shorty, I think I'll go join some of that action you were telling me about."

The two men strode toward the saloon and the sound of laughter and boisterous shouting.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

"Hit me," Heyes said.

Ridley was dealing and Heyes was seated across from his partner, with Shorty and two other young gang members between them. The men had ridden into the small town, if you could call it a town, late that afternoon. Their horses were boarded at the only livery stable in town and the six men had been playing blackjack in the saloon that doubled as the town's only hotel since early evening.

A small blond boy named Cole, shifted in his seat when Ridley dealt Heyes a five of clubs. Added to the six of diamonds already in front of him, the hand looked promising. Heyes gently laid the two cards he held in his hand onto the table and slid them under his bet. What Cole lacked in stature, he made up for in grit; he could ride, shoot, and drink with the toughest of the men. "Hit me too," he said steadily.

Ridley tossed a queen of spades onto the table and Cole swore softly as he threw his cards down on the table.

The boy seated on Coles left, laughed, and slapped his knee. "Cole, that's the third time in a row you busted," he said loudly.

"Didn't know you could count that high, Buck," Cole said threateningly, and started to rise.

"Settle down," Curry said sharply, and the boys, reluctantly, backed down. "Why don't you two go relieve Cooper and Jackson, you both look like you could use a little fresh air." Both boys had been drinking heavily and he was beginning to wonder if they would be a liability on the raid the next night. Neither boy had ridden with the gang before, but had been anxious to go, when White picked them from the group back at the Hole.

Buck stumbled toward the door and Cole followed, bumping into the other boy, which resulted in Buck taking a swing at him. The two began to exchange blows, eliciting hoots and hollers from the men in the room. When the boys fell over and began wrestling on the floor, Heyes rolled his eyes and stood. Lifting the pitcher of beer from the table, he took a few steps toward the brawling youths and emptied the pitcher over their heads.

The boys looked up in shocked surprise while Heyes glared down at them. "You were told to go outside, now get," he said sternly.

"Do like the man says, boys," Ridley called out.

The young men complied, and Heyes returned to the table.

"Next time, you let me give the orders," Ridley warned, giving Heyes a hard look.

The former leader of the Devil's Hole gang stared back, his expression darkening.

"How about switching to poker, I've had just about enough of blackjack," Shorty announced loudly.

"Sure," Heyes said, a smile slowly returning to his face.

Curry let out the breath he'd been holding and signaled to the young saloon girl who'd been hovering close to the table. "Honey, bring us another pitcher?" he asked, flashing a smile.

The girl returned with the pitcher and set it on the table, smiling at Curry as she brushed against his leg. "Anything else?" she asked, laying her hand on his shoulder.

"Maybe later," he replied, giving her a wink.

The other men chuckled and began filling their mugs.

The girl smiled and returned to the bar.

"I think I'll make sure those two relieve Cooper and Jackson and don't start brawling again," Kid said, standing and glancing around the room. Things were quiet, and the men would probably be playing cards for several hours, before most of them would find a bed, either alone or with company, in the upstairs rooms of the establishment. "Deal me out for a hand or two," he added, stepping away from the table.

"Let me know if anything looks suspicious?" Ridley asked, and Curry nodded.

Heyes watched his partner walk through the batwing doors of the saloon. He was limping, Heyes observed with dismay. Except after long days in the saddle or unusually hard work at the ranch, Curry rarely showed any evidence of his leg injury from two years ago. _Why is he limping now?_ Heyes wondered. They hadn't been doing anything strenuous for several weeks. _The heavy burden on his mind taking a toll on his body perhaps? _Heyes glanced at the other men at the table. None of them seemed to have noticed anything, as all were focused on the cards and the money on the table.

Curry met the two young gang members walking down the street. Both boys looked cold and hungry.

"Did you see anything out there?" Curry asked, glancing toward the edge of town.

"Naw, heard a few coyotes though," Cooper answered.

The town was well situated, slightly higher than the surrounding area, and with a full view of the valley. Any riders or wagons approaching the town could be seen for quite a ways, even at night if the moon was bright enough. The little town was one of the few truly "lawless" towns in Wyoming. Too small for a local sheriff, a marshal visited the town once a month. Any man was welcome, as long as he laid a little money down, and no questions were asked. The shotgun behind the bar kept things from getting out of hand.

With the outlaw gang suspected of taking refuge in Devil's Hole, it was surprising that lawmen weren't sweeping all towns in the foot hills and surrounding area. That was one of the reasons Ridley had decided to post look-outs through the night—just in case.

"Go on inside, the men are just starting up a new poker game," Curry said to Jackson. The boy nodded gratefully and both boys headed for the bright light emanating from the saloon.

"I wanna talk to you," Curry said, holding out his arm to block Cooper's path. Surprised, and somewhat fearful, Cooper nodded and waited, as Jackson disappeared from view.

"You've been on a couple of train jobs with those boys?" Kid began, and Cooper nodded.

"Tell me how they behave."

"What do you mean?" Cooper asked, confused.

"Do they follow orders? Act like renegades? Do they act like they're afraid, or enjoying the power?

"Oh, well, different ways I guess. Ridley gives the orders and Shorty backs him up. Shorty don't do nothin' unless Ridley tells him to. Jackson and the others," his mind seemed to drift for a moment, "Foster, McGill, Dawkins, they're all dead now, but we all just followed orders. We made sure nobody came out of any of the other cars and watched to see that no riders were coming. Kinsey waited until we were all done, and then, well, he did his job. He didn't take orders from Ridley though; I think Ridley was afraid of him." The boy stopped and looked at Curry. "There won't be any passengers on this train, will there? Just a few railroad men?"

Kid nodded, "That's what White said."

"Good," Cooper said, looking down.

"Cole and Buck haven't been out on a job yet?" Kid asked, returning to his questions.

"No, just me and Jackson."

"What about the money, does Ridley hold it all?"

Cooper nodded again. "We're not allowed to have any of it, not 'till we get our share later."

"Humph," Curry snorted, "seems like Ridley runs a pretty tight ship."

"I figure you can do what you want though, like Kinsey did."

Kid smiled, "I suppose a little privilege comes with being fast with one of these," he said as he tapped the gun resting on his hip. "How good is Ridley? I haven't seen him shoot."

"He's okay, but he never tried anything with Kinsey, nobody did."

"Maybe he needs to know that Heyes is pretty good with his six-gun too." Curry observed. "Don't tell Ridley I was asking about all this," he added.

"No, sir," Cooper replied, giving the older man a serious look. "Mr. Curry, can I tell you something?"

"Sure," Kid said, wondering what the boy was going to say.

"I always really admired you, I mean, you were sort of my hero, so…it's a real honor to ride with you."

Kid turned away, troubled by the boys words.

Cooper continued, "You always made it look so easy, you and Heyes. You got all that money and then never got caught. I thought maybe I'd do that—make lots of money and then just go start a ranch or something."

Kid shifted uncomfortably. If he and Heyes did their jobs right, they'd be sending this boy and the others to the gallows for their part in the robberies. "Well, that doesn't always work out. Most men that rob trains end up dead or in jail. We still might," he added.

"Oh, I know it's dangerous, that's why I'm glad you and Heyes are with us now. I know you hardly ever lost a man when you were leading your gang."

Kid couldn't look the boy in the eye. "We did our best. Let's go back in there before they get too far into that game," he said quickly, changing the subject.

Cooper grinned and headed for the saloon. Slowly, Kid followed, limping a little more than he had before.

"Hey, where you been?" Shorty asked loudly, as the two men entered the saloon.

"Just checking the area," Kid lied smoothly, "don't want any unexpected guests tonight."

"Yeah, that's a good idea," Ridley nodded his agreement.

The men settled into their game and ordered more beer and whiskey. As the night wore on, the voices grew louder, the jokes grew cruder, and the conversation turned to the few women that continued to serve drinks and display themselves in front of the men.

"Which one you gonna take Heyes?" Ridley asked with a sly grin.

Heyes stared back at Ridley, but said nothing. He didn't know what Charlotte was doing right now, whether she was thinking about him, whether she would wait for him. They hadn't parted on good terms, and he wondered if his decision to track down this gang had ruined the best chance he'd had at happiness in a long time.

"Well?" Ridley prompted, "Which one Heyes?"

"Him? He never touches women the night before a job, thinks it's bad luck or something," Curry laughed and tossed back the shot of whiskey that had just been poured.

"Suit yourself," Ridley retorted, "that just leaves more for the rest of us to pick from."

Heyes glanced at his cousin, a slight smile on his lips, _Thanks Kid._

"Well I don't think it's bad luck," Jackson spoke up, looking hungrily around the room.

"Me neither," Shorty said quickly.

The slender brunette who'd brought the drinks leaned closer to Kid. She rested her arm on his shoulder, and waited for a response.

Shorty looked at the girl, and then at Kid. "Well, if you ain't gonna take her I think I will," Shorty slurred. He'd been drinking heavily all evening and almost toppled his chair over as he pushed it away from the table to stand up.

Kid felt the girl's body stiffen but her face remained masked with a stiff smile. "Now Shorty, I didn't say I wasn't gonna, I was just finishing my whiskey," Curry said calmly.

"Fine, I'll get another one then." He staggered toward the center of the saloon, grabbing an older red head around the waist.

The men at the table snickered quietly. The woman wasn't the prettiest, or the youngest girl in the room, but with the amount of liquor the man had consumed, he didn't seem to notice.

Heyes watched his partner stand and then head toward the stairs, his arm around the shoulders of the brunette. He tried not to let his concern show in his face. He knew that Eliza's death was still weighing heavily in his partner's heart, and couldn't help but notice the resemblance between this girl and Eliza. She looked remarkably like Eliza had when Heyes had first met her ten years before.

"I think I'll take a walk outside," Heyes announced, noticing that most of the others were focused on the women now.

None of the men paid any attention to him as he exited the saloon. He walked slowly down the street, looking into the doorways and down the alleyways. Before he'd gone too far down the street, a man stepped out of the shadows.

"Over here, Heyes," Jennings' voice called out softly.

"You're pretty good," Heyes observed, after he'd followed Jennings into the alley. "There must be a dozen towns a day's ride from the Hole that we could have stopped in."

"Well, like you said, I'm good," Jennings replied coolly. "So what's your plan?"

"We stop a train tomorrow, tomorrow afternoon, outside of Westbrook. We open the safe and take a payroll. There won't be any killing."

Jennings looked impressed. "How are you going to stop the killing?"

"They had a gunman named Kinsey who did the shooting, he isn't with the gang anymore," Heyes said simply.

"Dead?" Jennings asked.

Heyes nodded.

The railroad detective smiled broadly. "Alright, I'll have men on the train, they'll be told to take everyone alive, if possible, but keep your heads down just in case."

"You can't do that," Heyes objected. "You won't get the leader. He's calls himself 'White' because of his white hair. He never goes along on the robberies. Ridley meets him afterward and gives him the money, and then they both meet up with the rest of the gang and give the men their cut."

"We'll have to arrest him when he meets his man then," Jennings reluctantly agreed.

"What about the rest of the gang?"

"With the two leaders out of the way, you can take over and bring them back here, we'll be waiting."

Heyes nodded, "Alright, you stay out of the way during the robbery then, and I'll find a way to follow Ridley and lead you to White.

"Thank you, Heyes," Jennings said, extending his hand. "Midwest Railroad and its passengers owe you a great deal. I will personally see that you are well rewarded for your heroic actions."

Heyes shook the other man's hand. "All I want is for this murderous gang to be brought to justice."

"I'll see you in a few days," Jennings added, as they parted.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

The most dangerous part of a train robbery was the initial contact—boarding the train. No matter how well planned or how thorough the research, there were no guarantees on how the boarding would go. No one could predict how the men on the train would react. Heyes relaxed slightly, once they had the men in the engine covered, and the rest of the train checked for guards and passengers. They had found only three additional men and relocated them to the engine. Cole and Buck and been assigned to tie the men up and watch them until the safe had been successfully opened.

Ridley and Heyes waited impatiently, while Shorty placed a few sticks of dynamite under the lock on the freight train door and lit the fuse.

Cooper and Jackson were left to watch the horses and make sure none of them ran off when the dynamite blew.

Kid rode the length of the train and back again, keeping watch and looking for anything out of the ordinary. The only thing that was unusual was how deserted the train was. There were very few men on board and very little security. He marveled at White's ability to find a job like this, it would be the easiest job he'd ever pulled.

The dynamite blew, and when the smoke and debris settled, a neat hole in the car door was revealed, precisely where the latch and lock used to be.

"Cover me, Curry," Ridley ordered, as he pulled the door open.

Kid dismounted and followed Ridley to the car. He drew his gun and waited for the guard to show himself. When no one came out, he approached the opening, slowly, with his gun raised. As the afternoon sun poured in, the safe could be seen sitting against the back of the car. There was no guard in the car.

Heyes grinned, "Good work, Shorty, let's go take a look at that safe," he said, stepping toward the car.

"Hold on, Heyes, I'll open the safe," Ridley said, pushing in front of the older man and reaching to open the long sliding door.

Ridley pulled himself into the car and approached the safe. Heyes and Kid stood against the open door, watching Ridley, and also scanning the countryside for approaching riders. The outlaw leader settled down in front of the safe and pulled out the paper he'd been given by White. Heyes and Kid watched, silently, as Ridley turn the dial. First left, then right, counting off the numbers.

"What's this?" Ridley called out angrily, as he stood and stepped back from the safe. Heyes and Kid jumped into the car and peered into the safe. Shorty was at the car door in three long strides and joined the others in staring into the safe. It was empty, completely and utterly empty.

"I don't understand," Shorty complained. "Is there another safe?"

"Maybe," Heyes said with a scowl, "but this is the one White told us to open. The combination worked on this safe."

A dark look came over Ridley's face. "We've been set up," he stated flatly. "Get back to the horses and let's get out of here. Curry, go get rid of the witnesses."

"But what about the money? We can't leave without getting some money?" Shorty stared, dumbfounded, at the others.

Heyes and Kid exchanged a glance, and then jumped out of the car. "Shorty, somebody was expecting us to stop this train, and that means there will probably be a posse heading out here any minute," Heyes said.

"I'm not waiting around for a posse to show up," Kid stated, mounting his horse, as Heyes did the same.

As if on cue, they heard the thundering of hooves and saw a cloud of dust at the crest of the hill, only few hundred yards in front of the train. Ridley and Jackson rode off toward the other side of the valley. Cooper looked at the two remaining horses and then toward the front of the train, where he could now see Cole and Buck running in their direction.

"Don't—" Kid began, but Cooper had already grabbed the reins and was riding toward the men.

"Damn," Kid swore, following and drawing his gun.

"Too many to hold off!" Heyes yelled, as he watched with dismay. Then he too, followed and fired toward the approaching riders.

Cooper reached the two men and circled around them. Grabbing hold of the horses, they scrambled to mount them. Buck made it up and settled into the saddle. Cole struggled, as his horse reared, and he couldn't get his foot in the stirrup. Bullets were now flying close enough to reach their targets.

"Come on," Heyes yelled again, as a bullet nearly grazed him.

The four men on horseback rode away, while Cole continued to struggle to get control of his horse. Buck suddenly cried out, and slid from his horse. They could hear Cole firing his gun and shouting, then a cry and silence. Bullets were still flying around the riders. Kid felt a hot searing sting on his arm, but he kept riding, turning frequently, and firing back at the pursuers.

Ridley, Shorty, and Jackson spun their horses around and returned, as additional riders were spotted coming from the other side of the valley. Heyes and Kid veered left and headed up toward the foothills. Cooper and the others followed.

Ridley, now at the back of the group, suddenly jerked forward, but maintained his balance and continued riding. Then, without warning, Shorty's horse went down, leaving horse and rider sprawled across the trail. Two men were hit as the group converged on Shorty. The distraction slowed the pursuers and the outlaws urged their horses faster.

The outlaws managed to lose the posse shortly after dark. They made a hasty camp and surveyed the damage. Ridley was seriously wounded from a bullet that had entered his back. He lay on the ground now, moaning, and the others wondered how he had managed to stay on his horse. They all knew, without a doubt that he would not be able to get back on his horse, and probably would not make it through the night. Jackson had also taken a bullet in his leg. With a little care, he might survive. Curry had suffered only a graze on his arm, which Heyes wrapped tightly with rags torn from his shirt.

Cooper sat with Jackson and Ridley while Heyes and Kid walked away to talk.

"He's not gonna make it," Kid remarked, stating the obvious.

"I know," Heyes nodded.

"That posse wasn't planning on taking anyone alive—us included," Kid added.

"I know," Heyes said again.

"So now what?"

"I don't know," Heyes mumbled.

Kid glared at his partner. "So who set us up? White? His contact? Jennings and Blackburn?"

"Yeah," Heyes replied.

"Well, which one?" Curry demanded.

"I don't know," Heyes said again.

Kid let out a disgusted grunt and turned to head back to the others.

"Hey, what did you think you were doing back there?" Heyes called after him.

"What do ya mean?"

"Covering Cooper while he rode back to get Cole and Buck. Have you forgotten which side we're on?" Heyes exclaimed, frustrated.

"I know which side I'm on," Kid countered.

"Don't forget why we're here," Heyes warned.

"Don't worry," Kid said bitterly, "there's no chance of that."

"I have to talk to Ridley," Heyes said suddenly, and made his way back to the spot where the injured man was resting.

"How are you feeling," he asked, squatting down next Ridley.

"Not…too good…Heyes," Ridley replied, his breathing labored.

"You know it had to be White or his contact at the railroad that set us up," Heyes began slowly.

Ridley nodded and closed his eyes.

"Where is he?" Heyes pressed. "Where were you supposed to meet him?"

"John…son's…store," he forced out.

"Johnson's? The Mercantile next to the saloon? The place we stayed last night?" Heyes showed his surprise.

"Tha's right," Ridley choked and coughed.

Heyes and Kid exchanged a glance.

"No law…no tele…graph…" Ridley continued, his voice growing weaker.

Heyes and Kid stood and took a few steps away from the others.

"Do you think White's really at Johnson's?" Kid asked quietly.

"I don't know, but I'm going to find out," Heyes assured his friend.

"Kid!" Cooper called out. "I think he's dying."

Heyes and Kid looked back at the men huddled on the ground.

Ridley was silent and no longer struggling to breath.

"We should keep riding," Kid stated.

"Aren't we gonna bury him?" Cooper asked.

"We don't have any shovels and the ground is nearly all rock around here. We can pile some stones over him to keep the animals away. Can you ride?" Kid addressed Jackson.

"If I stay here, I'm a dead man. I'll get on my horse," he said simply.

"Alright, let's get to work," Heyes directed. Curry and Cooper found enough rocks to cover Ridley's body while Heyes broke camp and helped Johnson get settled on his horse.

Before they rode out, Kid pulled his partner aside. "It'll take us another day to circle back around to Johnson's," Kid observed. "We can move faster alone, we should split up—send them back to Devil's Hole."

"The law's going to want the whole gang. We should turn them in somewhere first," Heyes said quietly.

"Why? The leaders are all dead. All except for White."

"That doesn't matter. Those two still rode on those other jobs."

"Just how do you suggest we turn them in?" Kid growled, "If we even get close to the law now—they'll shoot and ask questions later."

Heyes nodded reluctantly.

"We're splitting up," he announced to the others. "The Kid and I are going to Johnson's, you two head back to the Hole from the north side of the mountains.

Cooper gave Heyes a disappointed look. "Can't we all go back to Johnson's together?" he asked.

"No," Heyes said, sharply, "We'll be able to slip into town easier if it's just the two of us. Besides, we all stand a better chance of keeping ahead of that posse if we're not leaving such a wide trail."

Cooper nodded reluctantly. "He needs a doctor, that bullet's still in his leg. I'm going to try and get him some help."

"Stay away from the big towns," Kid warned. "Doctors are suspicious of men with bullets in their legs." He smiled wryly and swung into the saddle.

The four riders parted company. Heyes and Kid rode on alone, hoping they were finally going to be able to finish their job.

000000000

Heyes and Kid had ridden for a few miles when Heyes suddenly pulled his horse to a stop.

"What?" Kid gave his partner an anxious look.

"White's not going to be at Johnson's. He's not going to wait around in a little town like that. He's going to be waiting somewhere he can hear about what's going on. Besides, he doesn't have any reason to hide; no one can connect him to any of the robberies. When he hears how the train job went bad, he won't be expecting Ridley at Johnson's."

"So where then?" Kid asked, nodding as he followed Heyes' logic.

"Somewhere close," Heyes frowned, deep in thought. He looked around and then nodded. "Let's go," he said, with determination.

"Where? Kid repeated.

"Cross Creek," Heyes said simply.

"Cross Creek? Where we made our plans with Jennings and Blackburn?"

"That's the one," Heyes replied, grimly.

"You think they're part of this?" Kid asked, already coming to the same conclusion.

"They're either part of the robberies or they set us up to be killed along with the gang. Either way, my money's on those two for some answers."


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Cross Creek was quiet and dark when the two riders walked their tired horses into town.

"Take our horses to the livery," Heyes said, taking a look around. The local livery stable stood near the end of the street, and on the other side of the street a wooden placard with the words 'vacancy' hung in front of a large two story building. "I'll go get us a room."

"Do you think they've got our descriptions?" Kid asked, warily.

"Hard to say," Heyes replied. A solemn look crossed over his face. "If word's gotten around about our involvement in these robberies, the local sheriffs could have our descriptions or even photographs by now. We'll just have to find White before someone recognizes us. It sure won't be the biggest risk we've taken since we started this little pursuit."

"Heyes," Kid began, shifting nervously in the saddle. "You know I'm grateful to you for…"

"I'm not doing this for you, Kid, I told you that," Heyes said, quietly, and dismounted. "Go see if you can find a stable boy to wake up and let him know he's got two more to look after."

Kid nodded, mutely, and led the two horses toward the stable.

"You're in awful late ain't ya?" the tall, slight young man commented as he took the reigns from Kid. "Don't you worry though; I'll see that your horses get settled in just fine. The boss may charge you for an extra day, even though it's past midnight. He does that sometimes if horses come in before regular hours in the morning. How many days do you think you'll—"

"I don't know," Kid interrupted. "Just get 'em settled for now," he snapped, the words coming out more sharply than he intended.

The boy gave him a startled look and then silently led the horses away.

"Hey, look, I'm just a little tired," Kid apologized, following after the boy. "I'll help you get them unsaddled." The last thing he needed was for the stable boy to be suspicious of him.

They stopped in front of an empty stall and the boy led Heyes' horse inside. The glow from the lantern the boy carried illuminated the end of the building and Kid looked around at the other horses. One horse in particular seemed to be quite restless. Kid stared at the animal. The large alabaster stallion looked familiar. Blackburn had ridden a horse like that when he and Jennings had accompanied Heyes and him to Cross Creek earlier in the month. Heyes had talked to Blackburn about the animal—saying how the stallion's temperament reminded him of a horse he had gentled and trained on his ranch.

"That's a mighty handsome animal; do you know who he belongs to?" Kid asked, lightly.

"Oh, that's a real shame, I don't know what's going to become of him," the boy answered regretfully.

"What do you mean?" Kid asked, suddenly alert.

"Well, on account of the fact that his owner was killed yesterday. Poor animal, he seems to know something's wrong too."

"Killed?" Kid's face paled and he willed his voice to sound only mildly curious.

"Yeah, didn't you hear about it? Turns out he was one of them train robbers—even though he worked for the railroad himself," the boy shook his head in disgust.

Kid hoped that in the dim light, the boy would not see that he had suddenly paled. "Who killed him?"

"Some old guy, used to work for the railroad or something. I guess he was helping 'em track down the robbers."

Kid's heart was racing. "Was anyone else killed or arrested?"

"No, the sheriff sent a posse out after the gang though, they're on their trail."

Kid nodded. "Well, that's good. I heard about those robberies and they seemed pretty bad."

"Yeah, our sheriff will get 'em though. Even Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry can't outrun Sheriff Matson."

A knot tightened in Kid's stomach. "He's out chasing them now is he?"

"Sure is, and he'll find 'em too."

"Well, I hope so. I'd better be getting up to the hotel now. Thanks for looking after the horses."

"Sure thing mister. Hey, what's your name?"

"Uh, Jones, Thaddeus Jones," Kid replied with a thin smile and handed the boy a dollar. "That's for keeping you up so late," he added.

"Thanks mister Jones," the boy's face lit up and pocketed the dollar.

Kid turned and hurried out of the livery stable. _If Blackburn had been the inside man, where was Jennings? Was he in on it too, or had he discovered Blackburn? Who shot Blackburn? Jennings certainly couldn't be described as old—even by the stable boy—he was barely thirty. _

Kid's head was spinning as he walked toward the hotel. He ascended the steps to the hotel carefully, and opened the door slowly. Gun drawn, he peered around the door only to meet the barrel of his partner's gun. Both men holstered their weapons after a moment of recognition.

"Got us a key, Kid," Heyes said quickly, dangling a room key in front of his partner.

"Got us some information," Kid responded, cryptically.

"Oh?" Heyes asked, his curiosity piqued.

"In the room," Kid answered, pushing past Heyes and heading for the stairs. He glanced over his shoulder and gave his partner a questioning look.

"Number two," Heyes replied, "corner room."

The two men entered the room quietly and closed the door,

"Look, Kid, I already know," Heyes began. "The desk clerk told me the sheriff led a posse out of town tonight to hunt down the Devil's Hole Gang. That's good news."

"Until they find our trail and follow it right back into town," Kid added.

Heyes shrugged. "Yeah, so we'll just have to find White before they get back."

"You still think he's here?"

"I don't know, but I got a feeling."

"Did he tell you anything else?" Kid asked.

"He said something about one of the gang members getting killed in town, but I don't know how that can be. Unless, one of the boys from the Hole rode into town."

"Well, I got a little better information from the stable boy," Kid told him. "The man that was shot here yesterday was Tom Blackburn. Apparently he was the inside guy feeding White the information."

Heyes' eyebrows shot up and surprise registered on his face. "Who shot him? Jennings?"

"I don't think so, the stable boy said it was an older guy, someone who worked for the railroad…or used to. Maybe Jennings called in reinforcements when he started to suspect Blackburn."

"Well, that does make things interesting," Heyes scowled and began to pace. "Jennings didn't say anything about this when I spoke to him last night." He shook his head at the thought that it had only been a little over 24 hours ago that they had all been drinking and playing cards. Now five men were dead.

"We should both get a couple of hours sleep. I'll take first watch," Heyes said abruptly.

"You sleep first, I have to clean my gun anyway," Kid countered.

Heyes smiled at that. Kid had cleaned his gun as soon as they'd stopped to rest the horses after fleeing the scene of the robbery. He also knew that the familiar routine of cleaning his gun was something that had seemed to calm the man's nerves when they were on the run.

"Okay, wake me in a couple of hours. We should leave the room by sunup and start looking for Jennings. And Kid? Don't forget to wake me up. You need some sleep too. I want you at the top of your game tomorrow."

Kid gave his partner a wry smile. "I always am."

"I know," Heyes said softly, and closed his eyes.

000000000

At first light, Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry descended the stairs of the small hotel and looked cautiously around the lobby. The room was completely empty. Evidently the desk clerk had not yet arrived on duty.

"Let's see if this town has a newspaper. Maybe it will tell us what happened here yesterday."

"That looks like a spot for breakfast," Kid suggested, pointing toward building at the end of the street. A sign advertised 'steak and eggs.'

"After the dried pork and beans we've been eating, that sounds damn good," Heyes said.

The street was still nearly deserted, although there were a few patrons already seated in the small dining room. At the door, Heyes suddenly stopped in his tracks and spun around, grabbing Kid's arm and roughly pulling him around the corner of the building. It wasn't until they were in the alley behind the hotel/restaurant that Heyes took his eyes off the boardwalk. One look at his partner's face and Heyes realized what he had done. Kid glared back as he cradled his right arm and took a couple of deep breaths.

"Kid, I'm sorry, I forgot about your arm."

"Never mind, Heyes, just tell me what that was all about,' Kid said through gritted teeth.

Heyes nodded toward the boardwalk and both men peered around the corner. Kid's eyes widened as he watched the man they knew as 'White' casually stroll across the street.

"He was just getting up from the table to leave when we were about to walk in. If he hadn't had his back to me, he'd have seen me." Heyes whispered.

White stopped briefly to exchange a word with a man dressed in a fancy suit. As he continued on, another man waved and tipped his hat. As the second man came closer, a silver star was visible on his left chest. White continued down the street and turned into the hotel where Heyes and Kid had spent the night. Both men stared wordlessly at each other.

"I don't know, Kid, but it looks like White's on his way to Jennings' room."

"Or his own, we don't even know what name to look for," Kid added.

"He seems friendly enough with the local townsfolk," Heyes scowled. "Somehow, I don't think we'd stand a very good chance going to the law at this point."

Outside of their hotel, the two men waited and watched. After a few minutes, White stepped back onto the street.

"He's changed his clothes, he must be staying at this hotel too," Heyes observed quietly. "Let's see if we can get a name."

Heyes strolled casually into the hotel lobby. "Excuse me," Heyes said to the clerk. "I think I know that man that just stepped outside. Is his name is uh…uh…Wal…Wil…"

"You don't mean Mr. Pierce?" the clerk said, surprised.

"Mr. Pierce?" Heyes asked.

"Yes, Mr. Benjamin Pierce. I thought everyone in town knew who he was. Oh, but you did arrive late last night, maybe you didn't hear."

"Hear what?" Heyes asked, struggling to keep his tone calm and indifferent.

"About the shooting. Mr. Pierce discovered one of the ringleaders of the Devil's Hole Gang—shot him down in the street yesterday."

"How did he know the man was one of the gang?" Heyes asked, feigning an innocent curiosity.

"Well, I don't rightly know," the clerk said, rubbing his chin for a moment. "But he was one of 'em alright. He worked for the railroad—that's how he got the gang the information."

"Well, looks like I sure missed a lively time here yesterday. Thanks for filling me in." Heyes tipped his hat politely and headed for the front door.

Kid was standing against the building, watching the street. "Well?" he asked, as soon as Heyes stepped outside.

"It seems our 'White' is really Mr. Pierce, and he's the one who killed Blackburn."

"What?" Kid gasped. "The stable boy said the shooter was a retired railroad man. What do we do now?"

"Well, going to the sheriff and turning ourselves in doesn't look very promising."

"Right," Kid scoffed. "Who do you think they'd believe? A retired railroad man and local hero, or a couple of outlaws that were seen robbing two trains over the last month."

"We have to find Jennings. Maybe he's not part of this and he can vouch for us. I also want to read that newspaper."

"And if Jennings is in on it?" Kid asked, knowing the answer.

"Mexico isn't really too bad this time of year," Heyes said wryly.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Chapter 13

The two former outlaws spent the rest of the day following Pierce from one location to another as he moved from saloon to saloon, having a drink or something to eat. He hadn't done any serious gambling or stayed too long in any one place.

"What do you suppose he's up to?" Kid exclaimed in frustration, after Pierce had left another bar after only one short drink.

"I don't know, it's like he's just killing time. It's almost like he's waiting for someone," Heyes' face suddenly lit up. "He's waiting for us," he said quickly.

A skeptical frown settled on Kid's face. "How do you figure that?"

"He just found out his contact double crossed him and sent a posse after the train, but maybe he doesn't know there was no money in the safe. Maybe he's waiting for us to find him and give him his cut—or maybe he doesn't know that Ridley is dead."

"Or maybe he's waiting to kill us because Blackburn told him we were working for the law?" Kid said curtly.

Heyes shrugged. "Yeah, maybe that too."

"Well, anything is better than this hiding in the shadows and waiting," Kid said, pulling his gun from its holster and checking the rounds. "How do you want to do it?"

"I'll let him get a look at me and hope he follows me into the alley. You stay out of sight and cover me. I'll find out what he's planning to do. If Pierce turns me in, I may need you to break me out."

Kid nodded. "Good luck," he said, solemnly.

Heyes waited until Pierce was about to cross the street, and then stepped out from the alleyway. He caught Pierce's attention and the two men locked eyes for a moment. Heyes ducked into the alley and waited.

Pierce rounded the corner and looked cautiously at Heyes. "I wondered if you were going to show up here. How many men made it?"

Heyes looked at the ground for a moment before answering. "Just me, and two of the boys—Jackson and Cooper. Jackson has some lead in him though. I sent them back to the Hole."

Pierce studied Heyes for a minute, taking in the news. "Curry's dead?" he asked finally.

"That's what I said, isn't it?" Heyes snapped. "Now I want to know what went wrong. Who double crossed us?"

"I've taken care of the problem. That's all you need to know," Pierce said simply. "You ride back to Devil's Hole, tell the others to sit tight until I get there. I have to figure out a new plan—and without Curry, I'll need a new gunman."

"I know some people, why don't we ride out together?" Heyes' question sounded more like a threat than a suggestion.

Pierce shook his head. "I told you I have things to do first. In case you haven't noticed it yet, I'm widely respected in this town. One word from me and you'll be facing a lynch mob. It would be your word against mine. Who do you think the sheriff would believe?"

Heyes had no doubt about the answer. "Alright, I'll ride out," he conceded. Turning slowly, he walked toward the corner, half expecting a bullet in his back._ If White tries to shoot me, will Kid's bullet find him first?_

At the corner, Heyes let out a sigh of relief and quickly headed to the street. He continued on toward the livery stable, watching the street for any signs of Pierce following him. Taking a detour, he walked behind the livery stable and took a position where he could see the street. Neither Pierce nor Curry came his way. Settling in to wait and watch, Heyes sat down on a barrel and waited.

After a few minutes, Pierce strolled onto the main street and headed for the hotel. After the man disappeared into the building, Heyes returned to the street and waited. After a few minutes, he saw another man that he recognized—William Jennings. _Alright, here we go, _Heyes decided, wishing he had Kid's gun by his side.

Heyes darted onto the street and grabbed Jennings from behind. One hand went over the man's mouth as the other took hold of his right arm and pulled him quickly into the alley.

Heyes spun Jennings around and looked into the man's face. Wide eyed, Jennings stared back at his abductor. In one quick move, Heyes released Jennings and drew his gun. "Start talking," he commanded.

"What are you doing?" Jennings asked shakily.

"Somebody set us up—set us up to be shot dead by a posse. Since you were the one I gave the information to, I have to suspect you."

"It was Blackburn—I didn't know," Jennings pleaded. "He insisted on taking the money off the train before you stopped it, and then he must have told the local law to move in."

Heyes stared menacingly at the detective. "I don't like being shot at," he said in a low voice.

"I—I don't blame you. That wasn't supposed to be part of the plan."

"Well, what is the plan now then?" Heyes asked, his gun still leveled at the detective.

"You have to stop Pierce."

Heyes narrowed his eyes and studied Jennings' face. "I just walk up to Pierce and tell him he's under arrest?"

"No, of course not. He'd never give up that easily," Jennings said quickly. "The only way to stop him is to kill him."

"I'm not a killer, Mr. Jennings, I never was," Heyes said with a slow shake of his head. "Why don't we just go to the sheriff and tell him that the Kid and I were working for the railroad?"

"No, with Blackburn connected with the gang I'll be suspect too. I have no evidence against the leader except what you can provide."

"First, tell me what happened to the money from the robbery?"

"I don't know. Blackburn had it so he must have stashed it somewhere before he got shot."

"I just talked to Pierce and he didn't ask about the money. Don't you think that's strange? All this for the money and he doesn't even ask about it?"

"Maybe he thinks you have it," Jennings' voice sounded weak.

Heyes' laugh had no humor in it. "No, he never would have let me walk out of there if he thought I had the money—or knew where it was. That means he has it, but there was no mention of it in the newspaper that came out this morning."

"I'm sure there's an explanation," Jennings replied.

"Uh huh, there is. Pierce already has it—and you gave it to him. You had to be in on this. Both you and Blackburn had access to the declaration of valuables from the passengers. Blackburn had the key to the safety deposit box, but only you spoke to the railroad president. If Blackburn had been doing this by himself—he wouldn't have let you go to Howard. So that either means you two are in it together, or you've been doing this by yourself. Either way, I'm assuming Howard doesn't know anything about this. The only thing to wonder about now, is whether you and Blackburn were partners, or you were working alone. But it really doesn't matter right now, does it?" Heyes' face showed almost no emotion as he cocked his gun.

Jennings sighed and slumped against the building, then began to speak softly.

"He got suspicious when you first mentioned the insurance declarations. Started watching me like a hawk. He thought maybe you two were in on it too. He took the money off the train and sent the posse in to wait for you. I suggested we tell the posse to let at least a couple of the gang get away, that way they'd lead us to the ringleader. That convinced Blackburn for a while that maybe I wasn't really the inside man."

"Then what?" Heyes prodded.

"After the gang killed the guards and crew on the train, no one would know the money had been removed. You'd think Pierce had set you up, and kill him. I would, of course, arrive too late to stop the killing, but I'd arrest you two. No one will believe that you were helping the railroad. I'd keep the money and no one would ever know."

"The plan hinged on us doing a lot of killing for you."

"You're outlaws, killers—I didn't think you'd hesitate. When you left those railroad men alive you put a wrinkle in the plan. Since there were witnesses left alive, the railroad knew that Blackburn and I took the money. When Pierce shot Blackburn, he told me to tell the railroad that Blackburn had been feeding information to the gang and I had discovered him, but he wouldn't give me the money back. Without returning the money, my career will be over."

"Isn't Piece afraid you'll identify him as the gang leader?"

"You don't understand. It's complicated," Jennings looked down at the ground.

Heyes waited.

"If I implicate him, I implicate myself, Pierce is my father. My real name is William Pierce. Jennings was my mother's name," he added softly.

Heyes stared at the younger man.

"You mean you set your own father up to be murdered? What kind of son would…"

"No," Jennings interrupted, "What kind of father sets his own son up to take the fall if something goes wrong. To spend my whole life fulfilling his vendetta. You see, he was injured defending the train from a hold-up about ten years ago. Instead of giving him a reward—they fired him. They said he couldn't do his job any more. It took him years to recover, but he did, and he started planning his revenge from the day the railroad fired him.

"He started grooming me to take a job with the railroad and start working my way up. Once I was in a position to get the kind of information he needed, he began rounding up the others. Ridley, Shorty, and Kinsey. I never knew he planned to kill all those passengers. I thought they were only going to rob them. Once it started, I couldn't stop it."

"Why not just stop giving him information."

"Ha, you don't know my father. You don't tell a man like that no. At least I never could."

Heyes looked at him with sympathy now. As hard as it had been for him growing up without a father, he couldn't imagine growing up with a monster like Pierce.

"So you came up with a plan?"

"That's right, send you and Curry in to kill him. At least that's what I expected you to do. I never figured on you two being so law-abiding."

"You found out about the Wainwrights," Heyes said tonelessly, "You knew the Kid's connection and you set them up to be victims, didn't you? You expected us to go off in a blind rage and kill the whole gang?"

"Something like that. With Curry's reputation as a gunfighter, I thought it would be guaranteed."

"I'm taking you to the sheriff's office and you're going to tell the deputy on duty about Pierce. I'll tell the railroad that you didn't know what your father was up to, and that you came to us to help apprehend him."

Jennings hesitated for a moment. "No, it won't work," he said finally. "You'll just have to kill me now. I don't want to hang." Jennings began backing away.

"Don't," Heyes warned, "I'll shoot you in the leg. You won't die, but it will hurt like hell."

Jennings stopped and gave Heyes a look of defeat.

Heyes breathed a sigh of relief and took a step toward Jennings. Before he reached the other man, a shot rang out and Jennings stumbled backwards and fell. Heyes whipped around and saw Pierce standing a few yards behind him.

"Always was yella," Pierce scoffed, looking down at his fallen son. "We could have gotten away with a fortune and nobody would have ever known."

Heyes stared at Pierce, not bothering to veil the disgusted look on his face.

"Drop the gun, Heyes," Pierce said slowly.

Heyes didn't move, he continued to point his own gun at Pierce. "You'll kill me if I do—this way, maybe my bullet will hit home first," Heyes threatened.

"Somebody heard that shot and will be here to investigate any minute. You can come with me and we'll start up another gang," Pierce offered.

"You were right about somebody hearing the shot," a voice called from the doorway.

Heyes smiled.

"You," White turned to face the new arrival.

"I thought you were dead?"

"Where's the money, Pierce," Curry asked coldly.

"Aha, I knew it. You want your share of the money." Pierce smiled. "Tell your partner to put his gun away."

"I don't think so, Pierce," Curry said coldly. "Tell us where it is or we go the sheriff and tell him what we know."

"You won't do that," Pierce said, with humor in his voice. "You two will go down with me, no one will ever believe that you were helping the railroad. You've burned your bridges, so you might as well join up with me."

"You're wrong, there was a letter," Heyes said smoothly.

"The one in the sealed envelope? Supposedly from the president of the railroad?" Pierce laughed.

"Even if it was a fake, it will still prove that Jennings duped us. It'll prove what our real intentions were," Heyes continued.

"I destroyed it," Pierce said with a smirk.

"Except the letter wasn't in the safe deposit box."

"Impossible. I took the key from Blackburn right after I killed him. I opened up the box and removed the letter. Then I burned it."

"Without opening the envelope."

Pierce's smile faded.

"How would you know that?"

"Because if you had, you'd have known I switched the letters. There was a blank piece of paper inside that envelope you burned."

Pierce's smile faded. "Where is the letter?" he demanded.

Heyes grinned broadly. "I mailed it to the sheriff in Pine Bluffs for safe keeping. So you see, we do have options."

"What do you want?" Pierce asked.

"I want the money," Curry repeated. "Tell me where it is, and I'll tell my partner not to shoot you."

Heyes gave his partner a curious glance. _What are you doing Kid?_

Pierce laughed and a grin spread across his face. "You had the key all along. It's in the safe deposit box over at the bank. Now, can we put these guns away and go get the money and ride out of here?"

Curry nodded and all three men slowly holstered their guns.

As soon as the guns were put away, all hell seemed to break loose. Men rushed into the alley from both directions, shouting for the outlaws to raise their hands and stand still. Rifles, shot guns, and pistols were all leveled at the men in the center of the alley.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Pierce, Heyes, and Curry stood in the middle of the alley, surrounded by men with weapons of various kinds—all pointed directly at the men in the center.

Heyes' heart had skipped a beat when the men rushed in, and it was racing now, calmed only slightly by the steady look Kid was giving him.

A tall man with a thick mustache stepped forward. The town sheriff, returning with the posse, Heyes surmised from the badge on his chest. The deputy that they had seen that morning talking to Pierce was also in the group.

"Heyes, Curry, you two come with me," the tall man said briskly. Walters, get their guns first. Jim, you take Mr. Pierce down to the jail and lock him up. Smitty, check on that one," he indicated Jennings, who still lay on the ground, but seemed to be rousing.

Relieved of their guns, the two former outlaws followed the sheriff of Cross Creek down the alley and around the corner into a small corner restaurant. The three men settled into a table in the corner. Deputy Walters, who had accompanied them, waited by the door.

"I'm Sheriff Mahosky, and I take it you're Hannibal Heyes?"

"Yes sir," Heyes replied, his heart beginning to beat softer in his chest, he glared at his partner. "You wanna tell me what's going on?"

"Well," Curry said with a grin, "I sort of bumped into the sheriff while I was following you and Jennings."

"Bumped? More like kidnapped," Mahosky scoffed, but a smile crept onto his hard lined face. "But I wouldn't have believed you if I hadn't heard if for myself. Once I caught the gist of what was going on, I went and rounded up the boys. Now, I believe Pierce said something about a safe deposit box key?"

"Oh, yes," Heyes reached into his boot. He saw the sheriff stiffen and watch him closely as he removed the key. "Here you go," he said laying the key on the table. "That's where Pierce said he stashed the money."

"Alright, we'll check it out." Mahosky leaned back and handed the key to Walters, who called for another man at the door.

"I might not have been so agreeable if I hadn't received a telegram from my cousin's boy out in Pine Bluffs."

Kid sat upright in his seat and leaned forward. "You're Jack's uncle!" he exclaimed. "He told me he had an uncle that was a sheriff up north."

"Well, Jack's mother was my cousin, but she was more like a sister really, because she lived with us after her parent's died. Jack always called me Uncle John."

"He said you inspired him to become a sheriff too," Kid added.

Mahosky nodded solemnly. "Yes, I'm not sure I was too happy about that one. The life of a lawman can be a lonely one."

"Sheriff, if we're not under arrest then, can we have our guns back?" Heyes asked with a friendly smile.

"Well now, technically you're in my custody until I get your full statements and clear you of the accusations that have been made against you. There are quite a few witnesses stating that you robbed a train last month outside of Deer Canyon."

"Uh, yeah, well, that was to convince the gang we'd gone back to outlawing," Kid said uneasily.

"Jennings said he'd clear it with the railroad. Nobody was hurt. I suppose he never did that though," Heyes frowned.

"No, but when the full story comes out and the railroad realizes that you're responsible for apprehending the gang that had been terrorizing their trains, I'm sure they won't press charges."

Kid shifted uncomfortably on his chair and rubbed his right arm.

"You're hurt," Mahosky noted, looking at the blood on Kid's sleeve.

"Oh, it's just a scratch, a bullet almost got me yesterday," he said dismissively, but the others noticed he was holding his arm stiffly.

"You should see our town doc. With Pierce locked up and Jennings out of the way, things should be pretty quiet."

"Jennings was Pirece's son, did you know that?" Heyes asked.

"Yes, I heard that part of the conversation." I should have sent my men in sooner, but Curry made me promise to wait until he got Pierce to put his gun away."

"I didn't want to risk a shootout," Kid added quietly, "There's been all together too much killing lately."

The sheriff nodded. "Oh, I forgot to tell you. The last member of the gang was found down in Coldwater. It seems he had a bullet in his leg and tried to see a doctor. The doc guessed he might have been one of the hold-up men so he tried to send for help and there was some shooting."

"What happened?" Kid asked quickly.

"The robber's dead. Do you know who it was?"

"Name was Jackson, I don't know his first name," Heyes said, his face turning serious. That meant Cooper was the last.

"They're all dead then," Curry told the sheriff, not looking at his partner. "All of the men that took part in the robberies were either killed by Kinsey up at the Hole, or were shot after the last robbery."

"Kinsey? Tom Kinsey?" Mahosky whistled. "I've heard of him."

"He was the gunman for the gang. He's the one that killed the passengers on the trains they stopped."

"What happened to him?" the sheriff asked.

"I shot him," Kid said simply.

"Self defense," Heyes added quickly.

Mahosky gave Heyes a skeptical look, but nodded. "I see."

"Hey Sheriff! We got it. It was there just like he said," an excited man cried out, rushing into the room.

Mahosky smiled. "Good, having the money to return to the railroad will help convince them that you two were really out to stop the gang and not in it for yourselves. Walters will take you to see the doc about that arm," he added, giving Curry a concerned look. "Then come on over to the Longhorn and I'll buy you two a big steak dinner. We can get your stories written down tomorrow."

Heyes and Kid both gave a relieved sigh, and then stood to leave with the deputy.

As they approached the door, loud shouting could be heard from down the street, and then a single gunshot rang out.

Sheriff Mahosky and Deputy Walters drew their guns and all four men raced into the street. "What happened," the sheriff yelled, as several stunned men walked towards them.

"It happened so fast," one of them mumbled.

"What?" the sheriff demanded.

"Pierce, he made a break for it. He had a knife in his boot and managed to cut Harold while he was taking him in the cell. He ran into the street and old Will the blacksmith shot him dead. Shot him in the back."

Both Heyes and Curry were stunned.

Mahosky sighed and looked at the ground. "Will had a brother who was on the train down in Utah. One of the victims," he added.

"What will happen to him?" Heyes asked, sadly.

"Hard to say, he could be charged with murder," The sheriff said, sadly.

"Doesn't seem right," Walters muttered.

Without any further talking, Deputy Walters escorted both men to the doctor's office where Kid's arm was cleaned and wrapped with new bandages. The bullet had only grazed the arm, and the doctor told him that although it would cause some discomfort, it should heal up without any further complications.

It was late that night when the two men were finally alone in their hotel room. Although the official statements would follow, Mahosky had insisted on hearing stories from Heyes over dinner. A guard had been posted at the hotel, but Mahosky assured them that it was more for their protection than to guard them. There was still a great deal of confusion and many rumors in the town as to who had actually been behind the train robberies. Two telegrams had been sent to Pine Bluffs—one to Mrs. Hannibal Heyes and one to Sheriff Jack Caldwell.

"Heyes?" Kid asked, as they were getting ready for bed.

"When did you switch those letters?"

"Oh that. I was bluffing."

Kid's jaw dropped as he stared back. "Heyes, you never cease to amaze me."

"Good, let's keep it that way," he grinned and reached to clap his partner on the shoulder, but drew his arm back suddenly as he almost hit Kid's injured arm again. "Sorry," he mumbled.

Kid shook his head in a long suffering say. "Heyes, I swear, someday…"

"Kid?" Heyes interrupted.

"Yeah?" came the tired response.

"Why did you tell the sheriff that all of the gang was dead?" The question hung in the air for a few moments before Curry sighed.

"I didn't think he deserved to hang."

"Don't you think that's for the law to decide?"

"So he can get shot in the back like Pierce?"

Heyes swallowed hard and looked at his friend. "What happens when Cooper shows up alive somewhere and the law starts asking questions? What happens when they ask us about aiding and abetting a wanted man?"

"Well, first of all, the law doesn't have a description of him and second, he's not going to be robbing any more trains."

"How can you say that?"

"I had a little talk with him while we were covering up Ridley's body. I told him my biggest regret in life was that I hadn't given up outlawing sooner and raised a family—that if I'd done that, I probably wouldn't be where I was now. I said he should go away and change his name, get a decent job and never think about joining up with a gang or robbing anyone again."

"And?"

"And he agreed."

Kid turned toward his partner with a sly smile. "Then, I told him that if things were different, and I was back at my ranch, I'd even hire him if he could stay out of trouble for a year or so."

Heyes stared at his partner. "Kid, he participated in two of those robberies. He was there when Eliza and Joseph were killed, when Catherine—" Heyes stopped in mid sentence as though a revelation had just come to him. "That's it—he's responsible for Catherine being alive. Somehow, he hid her or let her escape, is that it?

Curry's grin broadened. "Heyes, you continue to amaze me," was all he said as he climbed into bed.


	15. Epilogue

Epilogue

It had taken nearly two weeks to finish their business in Cross Creek. Executives from Midwest Railroad as well as a U.S. marshal and three local sheriffs all converged on the small town. In the end, Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry had been exonerated of any guilt in the recent train robberies, and were in fact, credited with bringing an end to one of the bloodiest crime sprees in Wyoming history.

As they neared the train station in Cheyenne, Heyes became restless. He wanted more than anything to see his wife—and sooner rather than later, but the last time they'd been together, things had been tense. That had been six weeks ago. Despite the telegram indicating that she would meet him at the train station, he was unsure what the outcome would be.

Kid Curry was equally restless. He had received a telegram that said Catherine was well, but just how well he wasn't sure. The last time he had seen her, she had been in a catatonic state, unable to even respond to his voice. When the train finally came to a stop at the station, both men took a deep breath and stepped out onto the platform.

The first sight to greet Heyes' searching eyes, was his wife Charlotte, looking more beautiful than he'd ever seen her look. She looked healthy, she even looked like she'd gained weight, well that was fine with him; she'd been a bit skinny before anyway.

"I have so much to tell you, to tell both of you. I just couldn't explain it all in a letter. But I did want a chance to talk to you before you got to Pine Bluffs."

The two men exchanged a worried glance.

"Oh, no, it isn't like that at all. I know neither of you like to have a lot of fuss made over you, but the whole town absolutely insisted," Charlotte said quickly.

"Insisted on what?" Kid asked, his eyes scanning the station for his daughter.

"They're having a parade and celebration as soon as you arrive."

"Wh—why?" Heyes asked.

"Because, you two are town heroes. You brought that gang to justice and made rail travel safe again for everyone," she smiled proudly at her husband.

"I think that might be exaggerating things just a bit," Kid said frowning.

"Well, it's how everyone feels," Charlotte added, looking up at her husband. "Oh, Hannibal, can you forgive me for how I acted? I was behaving selfishly, I know. I couldn't bear the thought of something happening to you."

Heyes wrapped his arms around his wife and held her close, nuzzling his face in her hair. No words were necessary.

"Charlotte, please," Kid interrupted. "Tell me how Catherine is?"

"Oh, I'm sorry Jed. She's fine, she's more than fine, she's inside the station. The train came in late and she finally went inside to get the baby out of the heat. She came out of her state very quickly after you left, and she and I have been caring for baby Joseph. Jack came by nearly every day to help out."

_Caldwell,_ Kid grimaced involuntarily. Although he didn't know a finer young man than the sheriff of Pine Bluffs, he still wasn't ready to think of his daughter all grown up and maybe thinking of marriage. At that moment, Catherine appeared on the steps of the depot, holding her baby brother. Her face lit up when she saw her father and hurried over to him.

"I'm so glad you're back. I've been so worried about you," she said as he wrapped his arms around her.

"I've been worried about you too. How are you?" he asked.

"I'm fine, and so is Joey," the young girl replied with a smile that looked more put on for her father's benefit than her own.

"I'm glad," Kid said, quietly.

"When Charlotte finally told me where you'd gone—and what you were doing—I was angry, she admitted.

Kid's heart sunk. "Honey, I'm sorry I wasn't there when you needed me," he swallowed hard and closed his eyes.

"It's alright," she said quickly. "I was angry, but now I understand. If you hadn't stopped that gang they would have kept on killing and more families would have had to go through what…" Tears welled up in her blue eyes as she held the baby closer and looked at the train the two men had just exited.

"Here let me take Joey for a few minutes," Charlotte offered, lifting the baby from Catherine's arms.

"Pa, there's something I need to tell you," she said hesitantly.

"I think I know what you are going to say, it's about you and Jack Caldwell, isn't it?"

"Jack?" Catherine looked surprised. "What do you mean? He has been very helpful around the ranch while you were gone, but, that's all."

Kid gave a relieved sigh, "Oh, that's good, I mean it would be okay if you did want to…but I'm glad you don't."

Catherine smiled. "I'm not ready to think about getting married yet if that's what you are trying to say. I think maybe he was thinking about that, but he knows that I don't want to start a family of my own yet. Not now. Not with Joey needing a big sister," she glanced over at the baby. "That's what I wanted to tell you," she paused, "that I can't let Joey go to an orphanage or be raised by anyone else. We need to stay together and I was hoping that maybe, if you were willing, you'd help and…well a boy should have a father," she said hopefully.

"You mean me?" Kid asked in surprise. "I thought maybe…" he glanced at Charlotte who was happily swaying from side to side with the baby on her hip while Heyes looked on.

"No," Catherine said quickly, realizing what he was about to suggest. "Joey's my brother, he's family, I'm all he has and we have to stay together."

Kid thought for a moment, "Are you sure he'd want an old outlaw for a pa?"

"You're not an outlaw any more, and you are not old," Catherine answered with a smile.

"Still, I don't know what kind of father I'd be. He deserves a good one."

"Speaking from personal experience, he couldn't have a better one," she assured him.

Kid took a deep breath and nodded. "If that's what you want, and you think I can do it, then I'll be the best father I can be."

"Joey, do you hear that? Our pa is going to take us home now," she said excitedly.

Charlotte smiled as she gave the boy back to Catherine.

"Congratulations, Kid. I know you'll make a great father," Heyes said, reaching to shake the other man's hand. "I'm happy for all three of you, but I almost thought there for a while, that maybe I—maybe Charlotte and I—well I'm sure this is the best thing. She would have had to give up teaching."

Charlotte cleared her throat loudly. "I may have to give that up anyway," she said brightly.

"What?" Heyes asked, suddenly concerned. He thought they'd won that battle. He expected to see a look of sadness or possibly regret in her eyes, but what he saw instead was a sparkle of excitement.

"Hannibal, we're going to have our own child!" Charlotte exclaimed, unable to restrain herself any longer.

"Do—do you mean you're—we're—going to have a baby?"

"Well, yes, that's usually the way a child arrives," Charlotte giggled. "I thought you'd be able to tell right off, I've had to let out the waist in most of my skirts already." She blushed, "Well, actually, Catherine did the sewing; I'm afraid there are a few things I'm going to have to learn how to do."

"Heyes that's great!" Kid exclaimed. "Charlotte—congratulations." He leaned in to give the woman a hug.

"Well Kid, now that we have two families to consider, I think we need to discuss which one of us will keep the ranch house and build on, and which one will build a new place. "I've got some planning to do…"

The End


End file.
